•BmRBIHMBrailH 

•GBBQfflifiH&raHaRH 

H^RElflRra&rafifflffiiaKH 

HnHHHfiiBSfireSnaHSiHJ 


' 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


NS,  Aim  Sophia,  author,  b.  in  Derby,  } 
Conn.,  in  1813;  d.  in  Newport,  R.  I.,  20  Aug., 
1886.  Her  maiden  name  was  Winterbotham.  She 
married  Edward  Stephens  in  1831,  and  shortly  af 
terward  settled  in  Portland,  Me.  She  founded  the 
"  Portland  Magazine  "  in  1835,  and  continued  to 
edit  it  till  1837.  In  1836  she  issued  a  collection  of 
writings  by  natives  or  residents  of  Portland,  which 
she  entitled  "  The  Portland  Sketch-Book."  Mean 
while  her  writings  were  beginning  to  be  known, 
and  when  her  husband  received  an  appointment  in  ? 
the  New  York  custom-house  in  1837  she  made  that 

off  yTier  resi3ence.  She  edited"**  The  Ladies'  Com- 
paiii<  >u  "  for  four  years,  wrote  for  "  Graham's  Maga 
zine  "  and  "  Peterson's  Magazine,"  and  was  for 
some  time  associate  editor  of  these  periodicals. 
She  founded  "  The  Laflies'W.Qrld  "  in  1843  and 
"  The  Illustrated  New  Montmy  "  m  1846,  and  was 
during  her  life 
a  frequent  con 
tributor  to  va 
rious  other  pe 
riodicals.  She 
also  wrote  sev 
eral  poems,  one 
of  which,  "  The 
Polish  Boy,"  has 
long  been  a  fa 
vorite  for  recita 
tion  in  schools. 
Her  principal 
short  stories 
were"  Mary  Der- 
went,"forwhich 
she  obtained  a 
prize  of  $400, 
"  Malvia  Gray," 
"  The  Patch 
work  Quilt," 

and  "A  Story  of  Western  Life." 
made  a  tour  through  Europe  and  the  East.  On 
her  return  she  published  her  first  long  novel, 
"  Fashion  and  Famine  "  (New  York,  1.8.5J^jvhich 
is  the  best  knowriTTT"not  Jh£_b^stj  of  her  stories. 
In  France  three  different  translations  of  it  were 
published.  Although  Mrs.  Stephens  belonged  to 
the  intense  school  of  novelists,  her  attention  to 
minute  details  and  her  clearness  of  vision  enabled 
her  to  be  very  realistic  in  the  transcription  of 
natural  scenes,  and  she  never  hesitated  to  visit 
hospitals,  public  institutions,  and  even  dangerous 
ivsorts,  in  search  of  striking  types  of  character. 
Her  principal  works  besides  those  mentioned  in 
clude  "  Zana,  or  the  Heiress  of  Clare  Hall  "  (Lon 
don,  1854  ;  republished  as  "  The  Heiress  of  Green- 
hurst,"  New  York,  1857)  :  "  The  Old  Homestead  " 
(1855;  2  vols.,  Philadelphia,  1860);  "Sybil  Chase" 
(1862)  ;  and  "  Ahmo's  Plot  "  (1863).  Mrs.  Stephens 
also  wrote  a  "  Pictorial  History  of  the  War  for  the 
Union."  A  uniform  edition  of  her  writings  was 
new  ed.,  23  vols."l886). 


In   1850  she 


1869 


HAGAR  THE  MARTYR; 


OB, 


PASSION  AND  REALITY. 


A  TALE   OF   THE   NORTH   AND   SOUTH, 


MRS.  H.  MARION  STEPHENS. 


WILL     IS     DESTINY. 


Alas !  O,  alas !  for  the  trusting  heart, 

TVhen  its  fairy  dream  is  o'er ; 
When  it  learns  that  to  trust  is  to  be  deceived  — 
Finds  the  things  most  false  which  it  most  believed  I 

Alas !  for  it  dreams  no  more  1 


BOSTON : 
PUBLISHED  BY  W.  P.  FETRIDGE  &  CO. 

1855. 

( 


,- 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in"  the  year  1854,  by 

W.  P.  FETRIDGE  &   CO., 
In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  District  of  Massachusetts. 


STEREOTYPED    AT    THE 
BOSTON      STEREOTYPE      FOUNDRY. 


'       .'. 


TS 


• 

. 


DEDICATION 


0f 


>.  To  the  warm,  true  hearts,  over  whose  impulses  the  frost 
«  of  prejudice  has  not  hardened  ;  —  who  can  feel  for  the 
•^  tempted  and  the  tried,  though  themselves  may  have  escaped 
temptation ;  —  who  dare  stretch  out  a  hand  to  raise  the 
ir>  fallen,  even  at  the  risk  of  being  repulsed  and  scorned,  — 
§  these  pages  are  respectfully  dedicated. 

HAGAR  is  no  ideal  creation  :  and  there  are  ten  thousand 
ft   Hagars  the  country  through,  who  only  need  an  encouraging 

^    word   and  a  kindly  look  to  wile  them  back  to  peace  and 
O 
I    virtue.     Shall  that  word  remain  unspoken  ?     Shall  that  look 

•^    be  withheld  ?     And  if  so,  who,  think  ye,  will  be  the  culprit 

-J    in  that  great  day,  when  all  the  passions,   and  trials,   and 

emotions  of  the  human  heart  appear  unmasked  before  the 

face  of  our  Father  in  heaven  ?    While  women  trust,  and 

(3) 

r«hv- 


4  DEDICATION. 

men  deceive,  missionaries  will  be  wanted,  whose  souls  are 
armed  with  forbearance,  pity,  sympathy,  and  generosity 
Let  the  spirit  of  the  Mother  Mary  incite  you  to  save  rather 
than  to  destroy  ;  so  shall,  the  stumbling  block  of  despaii 
be  removed  from  the  path  of  the  erring  ;  so  shall  we  all 
be  happier  and  better  ;  and  so  shall  be  established  upon 
the  earth  the  creed  of  HIM  who  in  like  emergency  found 
heart  to  say,  "  Neither  do  I  condemn  thee." 

H.    MARION     STEPHENS. 


•Pk 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTIR  *AO* 

PROLOGUE 7 

I.  —  The  Southern  Home.  —  The  First  Link  in  the  Chain 

of  Circumstance.  —  The  Waif  of  Love.  ...      19 
II.  —  The  Belle  of  the   School.  —  Cross  Purposes.  —  Jeal 


ousy. 


30 


III.  —  The  Unwelcome  Summons. — The  Fairy  Friend.  —  The 

Link  in  the  Chain  of  Circumstances.       ...      38 

IV.  —  The  Fatal  Step.  —  The  Demon  Man.  —  The   Destiny 

Spell 44 

V.  —  Preparations  for  a  "Wedding.  —  The  Beautiful  Bride.  — 

The  Broken  Faith 52 

VI.  —  The  Old  Man's  Darling.  —  Woman's  Will.  —The  Baf 
fled  Lover 72 

VII.  —  The  Romance  of  Reality 78 

VTIL  —  The  Fearful  Secret.  —  The  Great  Wrong.  —  The  Plot 

of  the  Demon  Man.  —  Hagar's  Doom.    ...      87 
IX.  —  The  Defiance.  —  The  Resolve.  —  The  Escape  of  the 

White  Slave 98 

X.  —  The  Fatal  Step.        .  113 

XI.  —  Flight  of  the  Martyr "' .        .118 

XII.  —  Pretty  Ellen's  Philosophy .126 

XIII. —  Lawrence   the  Mesmerist. —  The   Adventure   and  its 

Consequence '.  147 

XIV.  —  The  Unwelcome  Visitant.  —  Starlight's  Grave.    .        .    153 

XV.  —  The  Unwelcome  Visitant 159 

*   1*  (5) 


6  CONTENTS. 

XVI.  —  The  Christian  Menial.          .        .        '        .        .        .164 

XVII.  —  Retribution 169 

XVIII.  —  The  Death  Straggle.  —  What  the  Waves  said.          .    181 

XIX.  —  Fashionable  Dissipation 189 

XX.  —  The  Poet's  Capture.  —  Hagar.    .        .        .        .        .212 

XXI.  —  Lizzie  the  Medium.      .        .        .        .        .        .        .219 

XXII.  —  The  Strawberry  Vender 232 

XXIII.  —  The  Jealous  Wife.  —  The  Unwelcome  Surprise.        .    241 

XXIV.  —  A  Dramatic  Scene  not  in  the  Bill 250 

XXV.  —  The  Mesmerist  and  his  Victim 258 

XXVI.  —  The  Crisis 271 

XXVII.  —  The  Dying  Strawberry  Girl 277 

XXVIII.  —  The  Wealthy  Parvenus 282 

XXIX.  —  The  Foiled  Intrigant.  —?  Mother  and  Daughter.         .    299 
XXX.  —  The    Disappointed  Old    Maid.  —  The    Old  Man's 

Darling 307 

XXXI.  —  The  Waterwitch 318 

XXXII.  —  Newport  Beach .327 

XXXIII.  —  Turning  the  Tables .332 

XXXIV.  —  Miles  Scammon's  Crisis 344 

XXXV.  —  Effie  Lee 347 

XXXVI.  —  A  Word  for  all  Parties.        ...  .357 


,     -.-. 


PEOLOGUE. 

IT  was  a  stormy  and  tempestuous  night !  Torn  and 
ragged  clouds  lay  in  great  heavy  masses,  while  here  and 
there  thin  bits  of  haze  drifted  before  the  wind  like  scared 
and  trembling  birds ! 

It  had  been  raining  ;  but  now  the  drops  had  ceased  fall 
ing,  and  only  a  low,  wild  wail  —  the  sobbing  of  the  wind 
amid  the  trees  —  was  left  of  what  was  come  and  gone  at 
the  bidding  of  the  storm.  Every  where  it  was  night.  Not 
the  soft,  still  night  which  whispers  "  peace "  to  the  worn 
and  weary  ones  of  earth,  but  a  night  rayless  and  star 
less  as  the  hope- wrecked  heart  of  love,  when  its  treasures 
have  gone  down  into  the  ocean  of  despair. 

The  hum  of  busy  life  was  gradually  dying  out  of  the 
city.  The  streets,  with  the  exception  of  an  occasional 
traveller,  had  been  deserted  hours  before,  and  the  lights 
had  faded  out  of  the  different  dwellings,  until  the  night 

(7) 


8  HAGAR     THE     MARTYR. 

and  the  storm  were  about  the  only  positive  things  to  be 
counted  upon.  Even  the  Revere  House,  with  its  long  rows 
of  lights,  was  silent  now,  and  only  a  glimmer  from  a  distant 
window  relieved  its  massive  shade. 

Almost  within  the  shadow  of  this  dwelling,  in  one  of  our 
most  aristocratic  streets,  a  mansion,  whose  external  adorn 
ment  had  elicited  many  a  sigh  of  envy,  housed  a  storm  of 
mental  passion,  outrivalling  the  atmospheric  one  that  had 
but  now  lent  terror  to  the  night. 

Up  and  down,  up  and  down,  all  the  long  hours  of  that 
evening  had  the  footfall  of  Hagar  Martin  dragged  its  slow 
length  over  the  tufted  carpet  of  her  chamber. 

What  was  it  to  her  that  the  lightning  swept  in  like  a 
flood  of  flame  through  the  heavy  mass  of  drapery,  which 
half  shielded  her  open  window  ?  -What  was  it  to  her  that 
the  rolling  thunder  pealed  over  her  head,  as  if  all  the 
armies  of  heaven  were  in  passionate  warfare  ?  The  tem 
pest  without  accorded  well  with  the  tempest  within.  The 
warring  of  the  elements  assimilated  well  with  the  warring 
in  her  own  spirit  of  despair.  It  needed  that  to  save  her 
from  positive  insanity.  She  could  bear  wildness  and  deso 
lation,  for  she  was  desolate  and  wild  in  that  desolation. 

Up  and  down,  up  and  down,  with  her  thin,  white  hands 
sometimes  clasped  above  her  head,  sometimes  folded  over 
her  bosom,  but  always  with  that  quick,  rapid  step,  as  if  try 
ing  to  outwalk  her  thoughts.  Sometimes  she  would  pause 
for  minutes,  her  eyes  burning  into  the  carpet  at  her  feet, 
hearing  nothing,  seeing  nothing  —  benumbed  in  every 


HAGAR     THE     MARTYR.  9 

faculty.  Once  she  paused  before  her  glass,  and  leaning 
upon  a  marble  slab,  contemplated  the  rigid,  gray-white  face 
therein  reflected.  There  were  deep  hollows  upon  either 
side  of  her  forehead,  and  her  eyes  were  rimmed  round 
with  that  purple  tint  which  tells  of  deep  suffering. 

"  No  wonder,"  she  murmured.  "  No  wonder ;  and  the 
world  so  full  of  beauty  from  which  to  choose  !  "  and  again 
the  quick  foot  took  up  its  rapid  tread  across  the  floor. 
Another  and  another  turn  brought  her  once  more  before 
the  glass.  Her  thoughts  were  going  back  to  the  time  when 
she  had  been  as  wildly  happy  as  she  was  now  wildly  miser 
able.  What  could  have  wrought  the  change  ?  She  was 
conscious  of  no  wrong  to  him  beyond  exclusive  worship 
and  all-absorbing  devotion ;  and  yet  conscience  was  whis 
pering  in  her  ear,  "  You  should  have  told  him  —  you  should 
have  told  him."  And  yet  she  urged  in  extenuation,  "  What 
could  I  have  told  him  ?  0,  doubly,  doubly  martyr !  O, 
fate,  what  had  I  done  to  deserve  this  punishment !  "  That 
happy  time  —  she  was  remembering  it  all  now ;  how  she 
had  suffered  herself  to  dream  upon  the  verge  of  a  burning 
volcano ;  how  she  had  awakened  with  that  quick,  sharp 
agony  which  comes  but  once  in  a  lifetime ;  how  she  had 
struggled  against  it  —  against  the  knowledge  that  he,  for 
whom  she  had  sacrificed  so  much,  was  changing  before  her 
eyes  ;  how  she  had  tried  to  strangle  the  doubt  of  his 
untruth,  before  it  had  gained  positive  form  ;  and  how,  in 
failing  so  to  do,  her  heart  had  broken  with  its  depth  of 
agony,  —  it  was  all  before  her  this  night ;  all  passing  there, 


. 

10  HAGAR      THE     MARTYR. 

beside  the  plain  white  face  in  the  glass.  O  for  one  mo 
ment's  peace,  though  that  moment  saw  her  last  on  earth ! 
O  for  one  gleam  of  God's  light,  to  show  her  the  ending  up 
of  that  fearful  -  struggle,  though  that  sight  closed  up  her 
senses  forever  !  In  vain,  in  vain  !  He  had  ceased  to  love 
her !  All  of  life's  sorrows,  ah1  the  great  woes  which  had 
gone  to  make  up  her  existence,  were  nothing  to  that  one 
blow.  To  have  lived  and  died  a  slave,  with  all  the  horrors 
of  that  life  about  her  —  ugh  !  The  thought  brings  up  the 
eloquent  blood,  till  her  whole  face  is  flooded  with  crimson  ; 
and  then  a  spectator  might  have  seen  that  she  had  been 
handsome  —  a  dark,  rich  style  of  beauty,  such  as  is  seldom 
seen  in  our  clime  of  blue-eyed,  soft-complexioned  women. 
If  the  flesh,  had  sunken  from  her  cheeks,  the  ruby  from 
her  lips,  her  eyes  still  retained  the  old  burning  brilliancy 
which  characterized  the  race  from  which  she  sprang.  And 
she  saw  it  all  passing,  like  a  kaleidoscope,  in  the  glass  be 
fore  her.  Struggle  with  it  as  she  would,  it  was  there! 
He  had  ceased  to  love  her!  The  one  idea  of  her  soul 
hushed  till  it  was  almost  silence.  It  was  all  before  her. 
The  bright,  laughing  face  of  earnest  manhood  which  she 
should  moan  for,  miss,  and  perchance  never  see  a"-ain ; 
the  thrilling  tones,  so  well  remembered,  which  would  be 
silent  to  her  forever  and  forevermore ;  the  eager,  zealous 
interest  in  her  weal  or  woe,  which  had  passed  away  with 
affection,  and  which,  more  than  all,  she  should  need  for 
incentive  to  future  exertion, —  it  was  all  passing  before  her, 
till  agony  found  voice,  and  she  wept  aloud. 


HAGAR     THE     MARTYR.  11 

"  If  he  would  only  believe  me  —  but  no  !  no  !  —  he 
listens  to  others  who  hate  me  for  the  love  he  has  borne  me. 
O,  heartless,  cruel  that  he  is  !  Let  him  beware.  He  may 
call  me  Martyr,  but  more  hearts  than  mine  shall  be  wrung 
by  the  sacrifice  ;  let  him  be  sure  of  that.  O,  the  blood  of 
my  race  —  the  cruel,  deadly,  burning  blood !  Let  him 
beware  that  it  does  not  deluge  him  through  the  heart  he 
has  chosen  to  usurp  my  place."  She  was  standing  now, 
with  face  looking  more  thin  and  worn  in  the  light  of  her 
gleaming  eyes. 

"_Ay,  let  him  beware  !  The  worm  may  turn  and  sting  the 
foot  that  tramples  upon  it ;  let  him "  At  that  mo 
ment  her  restless  eyes  fell  upon  an  open  miniature,  lying 
with  other  trinkets  upon  the  marble  slab.  With  the  sudden 
change  which  only  madness  knows,  she  caught  it  to  her 
bosom,  and  smothered  it  with  kisses.  A  step  was  heard  in 
the  great  hall  —  a  step  so  faint  and  low-  that  only  the  senses 
quickened  to  intensity  by  much  sorrow  could  have  detected 
it.  Crushing  the  miniature  into  her  bosom,  she  crossed  to 
a  window,  and  flinging  up  the  sash,  leaned  far  out  into  the 
damp  air  to  hide  any  trace  of  emotion.  A  light  tap  elicited 
a  faint  "  Come  in ; "  yet  before  the  words  were  spoken  the 
door  opened,  and  a  woman  of  some  five  and  twenty  years 
tripped  merrily  into  the  chamber. 

"  Up  yet,  Hagar  ?  "  she  exclaimed.  "  Ugh  !  do  close 
that  window.  It  is  horridly  cold,  and  the  wet  is  dripping 
ah1  over  your  dress  from  the  vines.  We've  had  something 
of  a  shower.  O,  do  come  in  ! " 


12  HAGAR     THE     MARTYR. 

Hagar  obeyed,  mechanically,  and  her  companion  started, 
to  see  how  haggard  she  looked. 

"  I  needn't  ask,"  she  murmured  compassionately,  wind 
ing  her  arms  around  her ;  "  I  needn't  ask.  Walter  hasn't 
been  here  this  evening." 

"  No,  Anna,  he  has  left  me  —  he  has,  indeed,"  she  an 
swered,  shivering  all  over.  A  gleam  of  malignant  joy 
overspread  the  features  of  her  companion,  passing  away 
upon  the  instant. 

"  Nonsense,"  she  replied.  "  This  is  just  nothing  at  all. 
It  will  pass  away  again.  "Why,  you  have  had  a  dozen  just 
such  pets  ;  and  yet  he  is  a  brute,  any  how,  to  treat  you  as 
he  does." 

"  Xot  a  word  against  him,  Anna.  It  is  all  my  fault. 
A  truer,  a  nobler,  or  better  spirit  never  dwelt  in  man's 
bosom  than  dwells  in  his.  No ;  I  abused  my  influence. 
I  was  impatient,  exacting,  and  O,  so  horridly  jealous,  he 
couldn't  understand  it,  because  he  couldn't  know  how  fear 
ful  I  was  of  losing  him  —  and  so  we  quarrelled.  If  he 
knew  ho\v  I  suffer  —  and  how  I  miss  him  !  " 

"  And  what  did  you  say  to  him  after  the  quarrel  ?  " 

"  I  made  every  concession  that  a  loving,  suffering  woman 
could  make." 

«And  he ?" 

"  Listened  to  it  with  his  cold  cynical  smile  till  the  words 
were  frozen  on  my  lips  !  To  think  that  I  —  I,  whom  peo 
ple  think  so  haughty,  so  defiant,  should  beg  for  love  as  a 
criminal  would  beg  for  the  life  forfeited  by  some  dark  deed ! 


HAGAR     THE     MARTYR.  13 

But  let  him  beware !     There  is  an  end  even  to  my  idol 
atry." 

Anna  could  scarcely  choke  down  the  triumph  rising  to 
her  lips.  After  a  short  pause,  she  questioned,  — 

"  And  you  sent  for  him  to-night  ?  " 

"  What  could  I  do  ?     Yes,  I  sent  for  him." 

"  And  he  did  not  come  ?  " 

The  answer  was  broken  by  the  opening  of  the  front  door, 
and  immediately  after  a  step,  familiar  to  both,  was  soon 
heard  ascending  the  stairs. 

"  'Tis  he  !  "  exclaimed  Hagar  ;  "  and  I  was  wronging 
him  so  in  thought." 

The  dark  face  brightened  into  a  sudden  joy.  The  cheeks, 
which  had  been  very  pale,  flushed  into  a  vivid  bloom,  and 
she  clasped  her  arms  around  her  friend  to  save  her  from 
falling.  Anna  shook  her  off  with  such  passionate  fierce 
ness,  that  at  any  other  time,  a  mask  would  have  fallen  off 
which  was  screening  the  vilest  and  wickedest  designs  that 
ever  entered  a  woman's  heart. 

"  See  him  ;  see  him  !  "  she  hissed,  in  a  voice  of  concen 
trated  rage.  "  See  him,  plead  with  him,  and  let  him  set 
his  foot  upon  your  neck  again  !.  I  thought  you  had  some 
pride,  Hagar !  I  certainly  did." 

Ilagar  did  not  hear  her.  She  would  not  have  heeded 
the  deepest  thunder  at  that  moment.  To  see  him  once 
more  —  to  stand  with  him  face  to  face,  perhaps  to  feel  his 
arms  about  her  —  that  was  all  to  her  now.  He  had  come 
at  her  bidding  ;  that  was  something.  What  might  she  not 
2 


14 


HAGAK     THE      MARTYR. 


hope  for !  She  grew  still  and  quiet.  She  saw  the  door 
open,  and  knew  whose  eyes  were  seeking  her  own.  She 
heard  words,  or  the  sound  of  words,  but  the  tension  on  her 
brain  hid  their  meaning.  She  saw  her  friend  pass  to  leave 
the  room,  but  she  did  not  see  the  distorted  face  of  angry 
beauty  which  glared  upon  the  new  comer,  or  hear  the 
words  hissed  out  between  lips  white  with  rage  into  the  ear 
of  her  lover,  or  some  portion  of  the  mysterious  change  she 
so  deplored  might  have  unveiled  its  reason  before  her. 
And  that  woman  was  her  friend.' 

O  that  the  almighty  Father  would  sometimes  strip  the 
mask  from  selfishness,  and  show  us  what  is  false  and  hollow 
in  this  mocking  old  world  of  ours  ! 

Hagar  and  her  lover  stood  side  by  side  silently  on  the 
hearth.  He  was  very  handsome  —  preeminently  hand 
some,  though  the  coldness  of  its  expression  now  marred 
the  beauty  of  his  features.  Finding  Hagar  likely  to  con 
tinue  silent,  he  flung  himself  into  a  chair  by  the  centre 
table,  and  began  turning  the  leaves  of  an  annual  lying 
thereon.  Quietly  Hagar  crept  to  his  side,  and  raising  his 
disengaged  hand,  pressed  it  passionately  to  her  lips. 

"  You  hurt  me,"  he  exclaimed,  shaking  her  off,  and  lift 
ing  his  hand  from  her  clasp. 

Hagar  did  not  weep.  It  seemed  as  if  there  were  no 
more  tears  in  her  nature,  or,  if  so,  that  they  were  frozen. 
She  did  not  even  shrink,  but  sat  silently  gazing  into  the 
blue  eyes  that  had  for  so  many  years  been  her  heaven  of 
happiness.  He  must  have  been  aware  of  her  gaze,  for 


HAGAR     THE     MARTYR. 

every  now  and  then  his  full  lips  quivered  with  suppressed 
merriment,  while  his  white  hand  went  straying  up  into  his 
hair.  At  last,  as  if  some  spark  of  pity  had  been  blown 
into  flame,  he  rested  his  arm  upon  her  shoulder,  and  said,  — 

"  Do  you  want  any  thing  of  me  ?  " 

Hagar  could  not  answer.  She  wanted  his  love,  and  that 
he  had  taken  from  her.  Again  his  question  was  repeated, 
and  still  unanswered. 

"  Well,  if  you  don't  want  me,  it  is  getting  late,  and  I 
will  go  home." 

"  Walter!" 

«  Well  ?  " 

"  Is  this  the  end  of  all  ?  " 

«  All  what  *  " 

"  Our  love,  our  intimacy,  our  happy  association." 

"  I  shall  always  be  your  friend,  Hagar  ;  nothing  more." 

Hagar's  hands  released  their  clasp,  and  dropped  nerve 
lessly  by  her  side.  This,  then,  was  the  end  of  all.  How 
her  head  ached  and  throbbed!  but  that  was  nothing  to  the 
sorrow  in  her  heart.  Every  where  her  eyes  turned,  they 
rested  upon  some  memento  of  his  affection.  Her  guitar 
lay  on  a  table,  untuned  and  unstrung.  Elegant  books, 
selected  with  a  refinejnent  of  taste  for  which  he  was  noted, 
were  strewn  in  graceful  profusion  around  the  room ;  even 
sparkling  bijouterie,  from  diamonds  glittering  like  cold  eyes 
in  their  diamond  cases,  to  the  tiny  chain  of  gold  which  had 
been  his  first  gift.  How  these  things  mocked  her  vision  — 
these  voiceless  memories  of  his  lavish  affection !  How 


16  IIAGAB     THE      MARTYR. 

should  she  live  through  the  long  years  of  the  aimless 
future,  with  these  silent  messengers  of  lost  joy' forever  be 
fore  her !  TJie  future  !  In  her  present  misery  she  had 
almost  forgotten  that ;  but  now  its  dreariness  rolled  over  her 
in  a  flood  of  bitterness,  and,  sinking  upon  her  knees,  she 
gave  vent  to  the  loneliest,  dreariest  sobs  that  ever  agitated 
a  human  heart. 

"  Don't  cry,"  said  he,  touched  by  the  intensity  of  her 
sorrow.  "  Here,  wrap  something  about  you ;  you'll  take 
cold." 

This  revival  of  old-time  tenderness  did  not  calm  her,  'as 
he  had  evidently  expected,  and  he  was  about  gathering  her 
in  his  arms,  when  the  face  of  Anna  McVernon  gleamed 
for  a  moment  in  at  the  window  full  of  taunting  sarcasm. 

*  O,  I  beg  pardon  !  "  she  exclaimed,  in  seeming  surprise. 
"  It  is  late,  and  I  thought  to  find  Hagar  alone ; "  and  clos 
ing  the  door,  she  retreated  to  her  own  room. 

"  "Well,  I  must  go ;  as  Anna  says,  it  is  late,  and  time 
you  were  alone." 

"  O  "Walter,  I  don't  deserve  this  ;  I  don't,  indeed.  You 
will  find  it  out  some  time,  and  be  sorry  for  me." 

Walter  accorded  her  an  unbelieving  smile. 

"  O,  you  don't  believe  me,  "Walter.  You  won't  believe 
me  —  but  —  there  —  there,  go  —  go  before  I  forget  myself 
again,  and  say  things  which  I  shall  regret  when  you  are 
gone.  Go,  I  say  !  You'll  find  Hagar  a  woman  yet." 

She  pushed  back  the  hair  which  lay  in  beautiful  waves 
upon  his  forehead;  she  gazed  mournfully  into  his  blue 


HAGAR      THE      MARTYR.  17 

eye?,  as  if  searching  for  hope ;  she  kissed  his  unreturning 
lips  over  and  over  again,  murmuring,  — 

"  You  have  wronged  me,  Walter ;  but  you  have  been 
the  world  to  me,  and  I  forgive  you.  You  will  find  it  out 
some  time,  when  it  is  too  late,  perhaps ;  but  go  now,  and 
sometimes  give  a  thought  to  your  poor  Martyr  Hagar,  who 
has  loved  you  so." 

He  was  gone  !  She  heard  the  door  closing  behind  him, 
and  his  step  increasing  the  distance  between  them.  A 
quick,  sudden  impulse  seized  her  to  see  him  once  again  — 
only  once  !  to  catch"  a  farewell  look  at  his  face,  which  he 
would  never  know.  She  flung  up  the  sash,  and  threw  her 
self  half  out  of  the  window.  Yes,  there  he  was.  She 
could  see  him  just  turning  the  corner  of  the  street.  She 
would  have  known  him  far  as  vision  could  have  extended ; 
that  graceful,  manly  form ;  there  was  no  other  like  it  to 
her.  She  seized  a  shawl,  and  wrapping  it  around  her,  flew, 
rather  than  ran,  down  the  stairs,  and  out  at  the  front  door, 
leaving  it  open  in  her  haste.  One  moment  more  and  it 
would  have  been  too  late.  Wildly  she  ran  on  from  square 
to  square,  until  she  was  nearly  by  his  side.  She  could 
have  laid  a  hand  upon  his  arm,  but  did  not,  and  followed 
quietly,  gently,  now  that  he  was  in  her  sight.  There  were 
no  tears  in  her  eyes  now,  but  she  regarded  him  with  a  fixed 
and  dreamy  gaze  as  she  ran  along,  not  near  enough  to  ex 
cite  his  notice,  yet  near  enough  to  see  every  feature  of  his 
face  in  the  light  of  the  street  lamps  as  they  passed.  Pres 
ently  he  paused  before  a  pleasant  dwelling,  and  producing 
2» 


18  H  A  G  A  K      T  U   P.      M  A  R  T  Y  R  . 

a  key,  placed  the  door  of  his  own  home  between  himself 
and  his  deserted  devotee.  She  did  not  speak,  but  pressed 
closer  and  closer  to  the  side  light  after  he  had  passed 
through.  She  heard  him  exchange  some  light  sentence 
with  a  person  in  waiting ;  she  caught  the  last  echo  of  his 
footfall  in  the  distant  chamber,  and  then  nerveless,  helpless, 
and  motionless  she  sank  down  upon  the  stone  step  at  his 
own  happy  home.  Her  wild  prayer  had  been  heard  and 
answered.  She  had  seen  him  once  more ;  and  by  the 
white  agony  of  her  quivering  lips,  by  the  great  drops  of 
suffering  which  misery  was  forcing  out  upon  her  face,  by 
the  tight  clinching  of  her  thin  hands,  and  by  the  heavy 
breathing  which  came  in  convulsive  gasps  from  her  over 
charged  bosom,  that  parting  was  destined  not  to  be  the 
last. 


CHAPTER    I. 

THE  SOUTHERN  HOME.  —  THE  FIRST  LINK  IN  THE  CHAIN  OP 
CIRCUMSTANCE.  —  THE  WAIF  OF  LOVE. 

"  In  a  beautiful  home  there  is  gloom  to-day, 
For  a  star  in  its  beauty  is  passing  avyay  ! 
A  spirit  is  leaving  these  chilly  bowers, 
And  wending  its  way  with  the  birds  and  flowers  !  " 

IN  a  beautiful  home  —  in  a  southern  home,  amid  the 
flush  of  eternal  flowers  —  'mid  the  song  of  birds  that  never 
tire  of  warbling  —  'mid  the  bright  and  beautiful  things  of 
nature  —  a  noble  woman,  tired  of  the  vanities  and  follies 
of  this  life,  had  lain  down  to  take  her  last  long  sleep,  whose 
wakening  should  be  in  heaven  !  Hagar  —  the  saint  —  the 
improvisatrice  —  the  martyr  woman  !  Hagar,  the  superb, 
the  haughty,  the  glorious  queen  of  poesy  and  of  love,  lay 
languishing  upon  a  bed  of  suffering  —  dying  ! 

Hagar ! 

Did  they  who  stamped  upon  her  infant  brow  that  bitter 
name  know  how  surely  she  would  work  out  its  destiny  in 
sorrow  and  in  despair ! 

Hagar ! 

Name  only  for  the  crushed,  the  bewildered,  the  broken 
hearted  ;  and  so  they  gave  it  to  her  whose  pathway 

(19) 


20  HAGAR     THE      MA11TYR. 

through  life  was  to  be  on  thorns !  She  had  reached  that 
pathway's  end,  and  now  lay  dying !  What  was  it  to  her 
now  that  the  heart  of  manhood,  that  should  have  shielded, 
but  only  betrayed,  now  wept  tears  of  blood  to  see  her 
fading  out  —  melting  away  into  the  shadow  of  death,  as 
sunset  clouds  melt  into  the  blue  of  heaven  ?  Heavily 
throbbed  the  old  clock  in  the  hall,  as  if  in  agony  to  tell  the 
minutes  which  were  to  be  her  last. 

A  strong  man,  paralyzed  with  remorse  and  grief,  knelt 
among  the  curtains  of  the  bed,  pressing  the  thin  white 
hand  that  had  often  sought  his  clasp  but  to  find  itself 
repulsed. 

"  Hagar  —  Hagar  !  has  it  come  to  this  !  "  moaned  the 
stricken  man  in  the  extremity  of  his  grief.  But  Hagar 
did  not  hear  him.  Her  eyes,  supernatural  in  their  burn 
ing  brilliancy,  were  fixed  upon  the  door ;  but  there  were 
no  words  upon  her  lips  to  express  the  desire  so  eloquent  in 
its  dumb  appeal. 

A  slight  movement  of  her  arm  brought  to  her  side  a 
gorgeous  slave  woman,  who  crouched  in  the  corner  of  the 
room,  sweeping  through  the  curtains  with  her  burning  eyes, 
and  catching  every  intimation  of  her  dying  mistress. 

There  were  no  tears  in  her  eyes  —  nothing  but  a  rim 
of  deeper  blackness  circling  the  lids  —  to  tell  the  depth  of 
her  anguish. 

And  how  gorgeous  she  was!  Only  those  who  have 
noted  the  perfection  of  beauty  to  which  the  negro  blood 
just  merging  into  whiteness  aspires  can  imagine  for  a 


II  A  G  A  E      THE      MARTYR.  21 

moment  the  extraordinary  beauty  of  this  white  slave  of 
Carolina. 

The  opaque  white  of  her  complexion  shone  out  in  daz 
zling  clearness,  with  just  the  tinge  of  bloom  swaying  back 
ward  and  forward  beneath  her  cheek.  Her  long  hair 
swept  in  ringlets  to  her  waist,  with  no  more  of  a  crisp  or 
wave  than  served  for  the  ornament  of  our  modern  style  of 
beauty.  Canova  never  dreamed  of  a  more  perfect  form. 
The  broad,  sloping  shoulders  —  the  full,  voluptuous  bust, 
making  more  conspicuous  the  round,  lithe  waist,  so  perfect 
in  its  proportions  —  the  round,  taper  arm  —  the  hand  long 
and  slender  —  the  feet  beautiful  in  their  extreme  smallness  ! 
But  the  eyes  !  Let  one  but  once  glance  into  their  burning 
depths,  and  there  would  be  no  thought  for  aught  else.  Let 
her  once  speak,  and  the  melody  of  her  voice  drowned  even 
the  lustre  of  her  eyes  !  Such  was  Minnie  Claire,  the 
slave  woman,  and  personal  attendant  of  Hagar  Martin, 
who  lay  dying  amid  the  luxury  of  her  southern  home. 

Minnie  raised  the  head  of  her  mistress,  and  in  so  doing 
unclasped  the  strings  of  her  cap.  A  flood  of  hair  black  as 
night  swept  over  the  bed,  and  mingled  with  curls  only  dis 
tinguishable  by  their  purple  tint. 

The  room  was  filled  with  weeping  mourners ;  but  there 
was  one  missing  whose  presence  the  dying  woman  most 
needed. 

She  had  not  long  to  wait,  for  the  window  opened  from 
the  lawn,  and  a  strange,  wild,  beautiful  creature  flung  her 
self  half  over  the  sill  into  the  room. 


22  HAGAE     THE     MARTYR. 

"  Hagar  !  "  exclaimed  a  dozen  voices,  from  as  many  per 
sons,  shocked  at  the  sacrilegious  act. 

The  girl,  struck  with  the  solemn-looking  faces  about  her, 
paused,  and  dropped  her  apron  full  of  flowers,  which  she 
had  been  all  the  morning  gathering  for  the  sick  room  of  her 
mother.  A  shade  of  disappointment  stole  over  her  face, 
succeeded  by  one  of  perplexity.  The  dying  woman  turned 
her  eyes  imploringly  upon  the  child,  who  sprang  in,  heedless 
of  the  crowd,  and  clambering  upon  the  bed,  threw  her  arms 
about  her  mother's  neck. 

"  Hagar  !  my  wild,  beautiful  Hagar  ! "  the  dying  woman 
murmured,  in  tones  which  scarcely  reached  beyond  the  ear 
they  were  intended  for. 

"  Loving,  passion-hearted  Hagar !  O  that  here,  in  my 
dying  hour,  I  could  pour  the  experience  of  my  spirit  into 
yours  —  that  I  could  save  you  from  the  broken  reed  upon 
which  my  soul  has  leaned!  O  for  time  —  time  —  time!" 

The  brow  of  the  speaker  grew  damp  with  death  dew, 
but  still  she  held  the  strange  child  clasped  to  her  bosom. 

"  Speak,  mamma,"  urged  the  timid  voice,  in  a  reverent 
tone  ;  "  don't  fear  I  sha.ll  ever  forget.  Speak  !  " 

The  dark,  round  cheek,  shaded  with  curls  of  raven  hair, 
contrasted  strangely  with  the  faded  one  beside  it. 

"  Hagar  !  —  my  Hagar !  —  read  the  world  as  you  would 
a  book,  and  fold  away  from  its  gaze  thy  strong,  high  heart 
before  it  yields  to  the  voice  of  the  charmer.  Hagar ! 
Hagar!  For  spirits  such  as  thine  there  is  the  cross  and 
the  stake  wherein  to  impale  its  yearnings!  There  are 


HAGAR     THE     MARTYR.  23 

lessons  to  be  learned  in  darkness  and  in  sorrow.  There  are 
dreams  from  whose  awakening  death  were  a  million  fold  to 
be  preferred." 

"  I'm  listening,  mamma.  I  shall  treasure  all  you  have  to 
say,"  murmured  the  child,  whose  burning  eyes  were  rever 
ently  turned  heavenward.  For  a  long  time  the  painful 
breathing  of  the  mother  was  the  only  sound  which  dis 
turbed  the  silence  of  the  room.  Minnie  attempted  to 
remove  the  child  from  the  clasped  arms,  stiffening  in  death ; 
but  it  was  only  the  signal  for  a  closer  clasping,  as  if  not 
even  the  King  of  Terrors  could  separate  the  loving  and  the 
loved.  A  tranced  vision  hovered  about  the  woman,  through 
which  the  future  of  her  child  seemed  painfully  distinct ;  for, 
after  a  moment  of  intense  thought,  with  an  energy  only 
given  to  her  in  that  last  struggle,  she  raised  herself  from 
her  pillow,  and  called  wildly  for  her  husband.  In  a  moment 
he  was  by  her  side,  with  her  head  upon  his  arm. 

"  That  girl,  Alva  —  that  girl,  Hagar !  I  cannot  die 
with  a  lie  upon  my  lips !  I  have  had.  such  a  vision  I  dare 
not.  Hagar,  Hagar!  you  are  not  my  child  —  you  are  the 
daughter  of " 

It  was  her  last  sigh  !  Minnie  had  seized  the  child 
almost  upon  the  threatened  exposure,  and  held  her  con 
vulsively  to  her  heart.  The  group  of  mourners  stood 
silent  and  apart.  The  conscience-stricken  husband  flung 
his  arms  frantically  around  his  dead  wife,  while  Minnie  and 
Hagar  alone  stood  tearless  over  the  corpse. 

"  Not  her  child !  "  whispered  one  of  the  gossips.    "  This, 


24  HAGAR     THE     MARTYR. 

then,  was  her  great  grief.  She  was  never  happy  like  other 
women ;  yet  who  would  have  thought  that  Hagar  was  not 
her  child !  Whose  can  it  be  ?  " 

Minnie's  burning  eyes  flashed  triumph  upon  the  crowd, 
but  no  answer  came  to  the  question.  One  by  one  they 
dropped  off,  and  left  the  mourners  alone  with  their  dead. 

"  Don't  blame  me,  master  —  my  master,"  murmured  poor 
Minnie,  laying  her  soft  hand  upon  the  husband's  shoulder ; 
"  you  know  I  would  have  died  at  any  time  to  have  saved 
her  a  moment's  pain.  I  couldn't  help  it !  " 

Hagar's  brilliant  eyes  were  fixed  wonderingly  upon  the 
pair. 

"  Hush ! "  said  the  man,  between  whom  and  the  child  the 
likeness  was  too  great  for  a  mistake  in  that  quarter. 
Hagar  blushed  and  turned  proudly  away.  It  was  the  turn 
ing  of  her  first  leaf  in  the  book  of  deception.  There  were 
many  more  such  pages  in  the  book. 

***** 

"  Have  you  seen  her  ?  —  have  you  seen  her  ?  —  have 
you  seen  her  ?  "  were  questions  which  circled  like  wildfire 
throughout  Madame  Delace's  boarding  school  for  young 
ladies  on  a  morning  after  an  event  of  peculiar  excitement 
at  that  establishment. 

"  I  dare  say  she  isn't  much,"  said  Flora  Bell,  poutino-  her 
red  lips  to  more  than  an  ordinary  size. 

"  Not  much  !  We  shall  see  whether  she's  much  or  not ! 
Madame  Delace  says  she  is  her  father's  heiress  —  worth 
half  a  million  or  so.  We  have  no  more  chance  of  making 


II  A  G  A  R      THE     MARTTR.  25 

conquests  where  she  is  than  our  Sally  has  of  making  us 
believe  that  beefsteak  pudding  is  pigeon  pie  I  It  is  too  bad 
of  Madame  Delace." 

"  But  did  you  mind  her  shoulder  ?  It  is  a  regular  hump ! 
Sally  says  her  nurse  let  her  fall  when  a  baby,  and  she  never 
got  over  it !  " 

"  I  suppose  we  shall  have  airs  enough  to  make  us  sick  ! 
She's  got  a  black  waiting  maid,  and " 

"  Black  !  You  don't  call  Minnie  black  ?  Why,  she  is  as 
white  as  her  mistress  —  whiter  than  Ella  Rose  is,  enough 
sight,"  laughed  a  mad  cap  girl. 

"  Mind  your  own  business  !  If  I  am  black,  I  haven't 
got  red  hair !  Lara  King  says  he  abominates  red  hair," 
flouted  Ella  Rose  in  return. 

"  Does  he  !  Now,  do  you  know  he  swore  to  me  that  it 
was  his  passion  —  compared  it  to  sunset  clouds,  field  lilies, 
and  I  don't  know  what  else  beside.  O,  depend  upon  it, 
Lara  dotes  upon  red  hair ! "  and  the  merry  girl  rang  her 
voice  out  in  a  great  laugh  peculiar  to  her  own  happy  self. 

"  But  that  is  nothing  to  do  with  Hagar.  What  a  funny 
name !  They  must  have  been  hard  up  for  a  name  when 
she  was  christened.  Hagar  !  It  makes  one  think  of  the 
outcast  Hagar  of  the  wilderness.  Wonder  if  she  is  any 
relation  ?  I  dare  say  she  will  expect  us  to  be  very  respect 
ful  to  her ;  but  I  shan't,  for  one." 

"  Nor  I,  for  another." 

"  No,  nor  I,  for  another.     She's  come  to  the  wrong  place 
for  compliment  of  any  sort." 
3 


„ 

26  II  A  G  A  K      THE     MARTYR. 

"  Girls,  girls,  girls  !  you  dou't  know  what  you  are  saying. 
She  is  a  stranger  amongst  us,  at  all  events,  and  not  big 
enough  to  be  very  formidable.  We  all  remember  how 
badly  we  felt  in  waking  up  the  morning  of  our  first  day 
here,  and  finding  only  cold,  sti'ange  faces  around  us.  For 
the  sake  of  that  memory,  let  us  treat  her  as  we  should  have 
been  grateful  to  have  been  treated  in  those  days  of  our 
initiation." 

"  Thank  you  —  thank  you ;  you  have  made  the  place 
seem  like  home  to  me  already." 

It  was  an  earnest,  honest  face  that  broke  up  the  conver 
sation  so  thoughtlessly  indulged  in,  and  a  hand  most  per 
fect  in  its  taper  proportions  which  was  extended  to  grasp 
the  other  hand  of  her  generous  defender.  As  the  two 
palms  clasped,  Hagar  Martin  (for  she  it  was)  felt  a  thrill  as 
of  ice  traversing  her  veins ;  and  even  while  trying  to  thank 
her  friend,  a  chilling,  repulsive  sensation  took  possession  of 
her  mind,  and  caused  her  narrowly  to  scrutinize  the  features 
of  her  new  associate.  There  was  nothing  in  the  frank, 
honest  glance  which  returned  her  own  to  predispose  her  in 
her  regard.  The  eyes  were  dark  and  full  —  almost  as  dark 
as  her  own  ;  while  the  face  wore  a  calm,  settled  look,  quite 
refreshing  to  dwell  upon. 

"  Strange,"  thought  Hagar  ;  "  I  never  felt  this  sensation 
before.  She  is  too  pretty  not  to  be  good."  And  with  that 
questionable  sentiment  uppermost,  she  strove,  by  renewed  ex 
ertion,  to  make  amends  for  the  wrong  her  first  thought  and 
first  impulse  had  unintentionally  committed.  The  sudden  en- 


HAGAR      THE      MAKTYR.  27 

trance  of  Hagar  silenced  the  little  troop  of  school  girls  — 
some  from  consternation,  but  most  from  merriment  at  their 
discovery ;  but  in  the  slow  glance  which  swept  around  the 
school  room  there  was  so  much  to  disarm  prejudice  that 
those  most  inclined  to  defame  were  the  first  to  defend  her. 

Hagar ! 

I  never  could  describe  children,  much  less  could  I  do 
justice  to  the  strong,  wild,  large-brained  infancy  of  Hagar 
Martin  ;  and  so  I  pass  it  over,  with  its  undeveloped  fancies 
and  precocious  thoughts,  —  with  untamable  spirit,  yet  sen 
sitive  soul,  —  and  bring  her  before  the  reader  at  a  time 
when  much  that  was  good  and  all  that  was  evil  in  her  na 
ture  had  acquired  the  strength  of  predeveloped  womanhood. 
The  death  of  her  so  called  mother  had  left  its  lasting  im 
press  upon  her.  At  first  she  refused  all  efforts  at  consola 
tion.  Only  one  of  her  entire  circle  of  friends  could  control 
her  in  the  slightest  degree,  and  that  one  a  young  lad  a  year 
or  two  her  senior,  to  whom  she  had  been  attached  from  her 
earliest  years.  Next  to  the  parting  with  her  mother  was 
the  pang  she  experienced  in  parting  from  her  boy-lover,  for 
such  he  had  become  to  her  in  the  fullest  sense  of  the  word. 
Keen,  active,  and  uncommonly  precocious,  Walter  Meadows 
was  a  fitting  mate  for  the  untamable  Hagar.  Others  might 
storm,  and  rave,  and  entreat,  but  one  look  from  him  was  a 
thousand  times  more  effectual  in  result.  Whole  days,  while 
the  autumn  sun  lay  warm  upon  the  earth,  they  would  wan 
der  away  into  the  depths  of  the  forest,  or  climb  almost  inac 
cessible  hills  in  quest  of  amusement  or  adventure.  What- 


j>8  HAG  AK     THE     MART  YK. 

ever  he  might  do  or  say,  it  was  her  law  and  gospel.  She 
was  his  defender  on  all  occasions.  Let  any  one  but  breathe 
harm  coupled  with  the  name  of  Walter  Meadows,  and  her 
form  would  grow  proudly  erect,  her  eyes  flash,  and  if  she 
did  not  give  them  the  lie  direct,  it  would  be  because  the  eye 
of  her  father  was  on  her.  Dearly  she  loved  every  glossy 
curl  that  rose  and  fell  with  the  passing  breeze  upon  his 
noble  brow  ;  and  dearly,  after  his  boyish  fashion,  he  loved 
the  trusting  child  that,  in  her  dependence,  clung  to  him  for 
sympathy.  And  so  the  years  passed,  till  Hagar  became 
frantic  at  the  loss  of  her  playmate,  who  had  been  sent  to 
New  York  to  study  with  a  famous  lawyer  of  that  city. 
Then,  and  not  till  then,  would  she  consent  to  become  an  in 
mate  of  Madame  Delace's  schopl  in  Charleston. 

From  the  hour  of  her  strange  introduction,  herself  and 
Anna  "Welman  had  become  sworn  friends  —  such  friends 
as  we  all  remember  to  have  had  at  some  tune  or  another  of 
our  childish  years  —  such  friends  as  many  of  us  sorrow  for 
with  a  grief  known  only  to  the  waking  dreams.  Hagar  was 
wild  as  the  wind,  free  as  the  eagle,  and  impulsive  as  the 
mountain  torrent,  which  sweeps  over  all  barriers.  Tem 
pests  which  would  thrill  those  about  her  with  terror  and 
dismay  were  to  her  the  joys  of  her  existence.  She  would 
sit  at  the  window  watching  for  hours  the  lightning  as  it 
played  in  fitful  gleams  around  the  rocks  of  her  mountain 
home,  as  if  she  could  scarcely  resist  the  desire  to  be  alone 
with  the  elements  in  their  hour  of  darkest  doom.  Company 
was  her  aversion,  now  that  Walter  was  gone.  Her  thoughts 


HAGAR     THE     MARTYR.  29 

were  company  enough.  Even  her  school  chum,  Anna 
Welman,  had  no  power,  when  she  chose  to  retreat,  to 
draw  her  from  herself.  Then  the  solitude  of  the  hills 
and  the  rocks,  or  the  sea-girt  shore,  had  charms  alone  for 
her.  There,  with  rod  in  hand,  or  gun  upon  her  shoulder, 
she  would  wander  till  the  sun  went  down  upon  the  moun 
tains,  and  not  unfrequently  till  the  moon  and  stars  were 
"  lending  torches  "  for  her  steps.  You  may  be  sure  such 
habits  tended  to  develop  a  nature  at  best  untamable  and 
erratic.  Some  persons  voted  it  a  harmless  insanity,  and  as 
there  was  no  malignancy  in  it,  she  was  suffered  to  choose 
her  own  method  of  amusement.  It  was  in  vain  the  neigh 
bors  speculated  from  whence  she  got  her  fiery  blood,  from 
what  source  she  inherited  her  rambling,  restless  disposition, 
or  from  whose  milk  she  drank  in  that  fierce,  invincible, 
almost  fiendish  recognition  of  insult.  They  were  there  — 
elements  that  could  not  be  controlled  —  that  grew  only  the 
more  wild,  and  fierce,  and  invincible  under  shadow  of  re 
straint  ;  and  when  they  questioned  her  father  concerning  it, 
and  advised  him  to  check  its  growth,  he  only  sighed,  and 
turned  to  matters  of  a  foreign  import. 

And  much  in  this  way  matters  progressed   till  Hagar 
gained  her  fourteenth  year. 
3* 


CHAPTER    II. 

THE  BELLE  OP  THE  SCHOOL.  —  CROSS  PURPOSES.  —  JEALOUSY. 

THE  summer  was  in  its  richest  bloom  about  the  hills  and 
romantic  dells  bordering  the  academy  grounds  where  Hagar 
was  getting  her  wisdom.  The  trees  were  all  a  luscious, 
dreamy  mass  of  quivering  green,  so  broad,  so  dense  that  it 
was  a  mystery,  known  only  to  themselves,  how  the  myriads 
of  birds  who  flooded  the  air  with  song  contrived  to  dive  in 
and  out  without  ruffling  their  glancing  little  plumes.  But 
they  managed  it  somehow.  Lonely  days  there  would  have 
been  without  them,  or  without  the  ten  thousand  wild,  free, 
living  creatures  who  kept  them  company ;  or,  for  the  mat 
ter  of  that,  without  the  trees  themselves,  dancing  and  keep 
ing  up  such  a  rinktum  with  their  leaves  all  through  the 
melting  season.  Madame  Delace  had  taken  good  care 
of  the  pleasure  of  her  scholars.  Nothing  could  exceed  the 
beauty  of  her  house  or  grounds ;  and  it  was  a  perfect  home 
thought  to  linger  among  the  flowers  and  the  heavy  vines 
which  invited  a  stroll  on  all  sides.  There  was  one  little 
spot  of  all  others  that  challenged  especial  admiration  —  a 
sort  of  natural  arbor  formed  of  great  maple  trees,  from  the 
tops  of  which,  and  all  down  the  sides,  drooped  vines  of 
gorgeous  texture,  so  light,  so  graceful,  and  yet  so  thick, 

(30) 


HAGAR      THE      MARTYR.  31 

that  the  sun  could  only  creep  in  through  the  interstices,  and 
ripple  in  little  pools  of  gold  among  the  grapes.  A  heavy 
drapery  of  vines  fell  in  a  perfect  sheet  of  embroidery,  and 
formed  a  delicious  curtain  for  the  entrance  to  this  sylvan 
spot.  Hagar  had  taken  the  cultivation  of  this  retreat  into 
her  own  hands ;  and  woe  to  the  mischievous  sprites  that 
dared  displace  a  single  vine !  On  the  side  looking  towards 
the  turnpike  she  had  arranged  a  window,  at  which  she 
could  sit  and  read  or  dream  for  hours  and  hours  together. 
This  was  also  the  favorite  resort  of  her  friend  Anna  Wei- 
man.  She  had  described  it  all  to  "Walter  in  the  many 
letters  she  had  written  him ;  had  told  him  how  rare  and 
luscious  the  grapes  were,  which  only  waited  the  parting  of 
lips  to  drop  of  their  own  accord  into  one's  mouth ;  had  told 
him  of  the  flowers,  and  the  birds,  and  the  softly  murmur 
ing  streams ;  had  told  him,  with  a  minuteness  which  some 
what  puzzled  him,  of  the  beautiful  goddess  of  the  arbor  — 
pretty  Anna  Welman.  Of  late  she  had  ceased  to  mention 
her  young  confidant.  Perhaps  Walter,  in  his  replies,  had 
taken  rather  too  great  an  interest  in  her  —  had  been  too 
grateful  for  her  kindness  to  his  poor  and  lonely  Hagar. 
One  thing  was  certain;  she  did  not  quite  relish  Anna's  curi 
osity  regarding  him.  It  seemed  like  an  encroachment  on 
her  rights  for  any  other  girl  to  care  for  the  color  of  his 
eyes,  though  they  were  the  shade  of  the  violet  on  the  side 
towards  the  blue  heaven ;  or  to  imagine  the  crispiness  of 
his  curls,  though  they  did  ripple  like  sunny  waves  over  his 
broad  forehead.  She  forgot  that  his  many  charms  had 


32  HA  GAR     THE      MARTYR. 

been  the  incessant  theme  of  her  confidences  with  her 
friend,  and  finally  came  to  drop  the  subject  altogether. 
Not  so  her  friend.  Anna  Welman  was  a  born  coquette ; 
she  could  not  help  trying  to  win  affection,  though  by  so 
doing  she  was  sure  of  breaking  her  own  sister's  heart. 
There  are  many  such  women  in  the  world,  unable  to  resist 
coquetry,  yet  meaning  nothing  in  the  end  beyond  a  species 
of  harmless  pleasantly.  If  they  would  only  reflect  —  But 
that  is  neither  here  nor  there.  Anna,  as  I  have  said,  was 
a  born  coquette ;  and  Hagar,  with  her  quick  instincts,  felt 
her  to  be  a  dangerous  rival.  What  Anna's  thoughts  were 
I  should  not  like  to  say.  It  seems  impossible  to  believe 
that,  while  sitting  with  her  arm  enclasped  around  her 
friend,  she  could  be  indulging  in  dreams  of  rivalry  which 
were  to  wring  that  friend's  heart.  There  are  some  inex 
plicable  things  in  human  nature,  and  this  was  one  of  them. 

For  days  and  days  Hagar  had  wandered,  restless-  and 
uneasy,  around  the  house  and  over  the  grounds,  yet  never 
straying  beyond  sight  of  the  domicile.  The  truth  was,  she 
had  received  a  letter  from  "Walter  announcing  a  flying 
visit;  and  in  her  loving  heart  came  doubts  of  the  result 
thereof;  she  could  not  tell  why  —  a  presentiment,  perhaps, 
but  none  the  less  painful  to  bear,  that  she  was  wronging  her 
best  friend  by  her  ridiculous  suspicion. 

Never  was  sunset  more  glorious,  never  rang  the  good 
night  song  of  the  birds  more  cheerily,  never  whispered  the 
leaves  more  dreamily  than  on  the  eve  of  his  arrival ;  but 
the  fates  were  against  her  even  there.  She  had  been  sit- 


HAGAR      THE      MARTYR.  33 

ting  with  Anna  in  their  vine-wreathed  arbor,  watching  the 
golden  clouds  melting  away  and  brimming  over  into  purple 
tints.  Such  troops  of  lovely  fantasies !  such  floods  of 
evanescent  glory !  She  was  wondering  what  it  all  meant, 
and  where  it  all  went  to,  and  what  made  the  night,  with 
all  its  darksome  shadows.  Anna  was  leaning  far  out 
among  the  vines,  framing  as  beautiful  a  picture  in  their 
fruity  wealth  as  ever  Rembrandt  dreamed  of  or  Angelo 
conceived. 

"  He  will  not  come  to-night,"  thought  Hagar,  as  she  stole 
away  to  view  the  setting  sun  from  a  more  favorable  point 
in  the  garden.  Anna  at  first  did  not  miss  her,  but  contin 
ued  leaning  out,  lazily  plucking  the  grapes  which  dangled 
on  all  sides  of  the  window.  Presently  she  saw  a  shadow 
on  the  rich  turf,  and  heard  a  step  by  the  side  of  her. 
Thinking  it  was  Hagar,  she  began  in  her  accustomed 
method  of  addressing  her  when  alone. 

uKrd-ee,  dear, " 

"  And  bird-ee,  dear,"  rang  out  a  mocking,  musical  voice, 
while  a  pair  of  soft  palms  prisoned  her  head,  and  two 
warm,  full  lips  took  venturesome  toll  of  her  own  plump, 
tempting  ones. 

"Sir!" 

"  I  beg  your  pardon.  How  could  I  be  mistaken  ?  "  mur 
mured  Walter  Meadows,  blushing  and  stammering  like  a 
school  girl  detected  in  her  first  love  affair. 

After  a  moment's  embarrassment,  Anna  gracefully  held 
out  her  hand  to  him,  giving  him  warm  welcome  in  the 


34  IIAGAR     THE     MARTYR. 

absence  of  their  mutual  friend,  and  explaining  to  him  that 
she  was  the  "  bird-ee,  dear "  that  was  re.-ponsible  for  the 
amusing  denouement. 

Hagar  had  caught  a  glimpse  of  him  as  he  entered,  and, 
flying  along,  she  tore  the  drooping  vines  asunder,  scattering 
the  purple  fruit  in  all  directions,  in  her  haste  to  greet  him 
once  more.  As  her  eye  took  in  the  sight  of  her  lover 
cozily  seated  by  her  friend,  and  conversing  with  the  famil 
iarity  of  old  acquaintances,  a  flush  of  deeper  red  darted  to 
her  cheeks,  and  her  eyes  flamed  out  in  gusty  glances. 

"Walter  sprang  up,  and  would  have  taken  her  in  his 
arms ;  but  she  evaded  his  clasp,  and  merely  touched  his 
hand  in  her  chilliest  manner.  Walter  gazed  upon  her  in 
mute  astonishment.  Her  letters  had  been  so  warm,  so 
friendly ;  what  could  it  mean  ?  Conscious  of  no  offence  on 
his  part,  he  wondered  the  more  what  could  have  given  rise 
to  her  singular  behavior.  Anna  could  have  told  him ;  the 
very  flashing  of  her  eyes,  the  proud  curving  of  her  lips, 
had  triumph  in  them.  Not  that  she  loved  him ;  not  that 
he  loved  her ;  not  that  she  ever  expected  or  wished  him  to 
love  her  —  not  then,  whatever  she  might  have  done  in  the 
after  years ;  but  Hagar  was  jealous  of  her ;  Hagar  —  the 
proud,  passionate,  beautiful  Hagar  —  was  jealous  of  her. 
Never  before  had  such  a  thrill  of  joy  pervaded  her  being. 
Her  sphere  had  heretofore  been  limited.  Young  men  were 
novelties  in  that  locality ;  and  it  needed  no  trumpet  tongue 
to  tell  her  that  Walter  Meadows  was  all  the  fond  eyes  of 
his  loving  Hagar  had  painted  him.  It  was  a  detestable 


HAGAR      THE      MARTYR.  35 

impulse,  a  fiendish  determination.  I  shame  to  say  that  all 
her  patterns  are  not  extinct.  Perhaps  it  would  be  as  well 
not  to  say  it ;  but  then  what  would  become  of  my  story  ? 
Besides,  I  am  disclosing  hearts  as  they  are,  not  as  we 
would  like  to  have  them. 

Anna  did  not  long  intrude  her  company  upon  the  lovers, 
but  left  them  with  a  graceful  salutation,  hoping  to  meet 
Mr.  Meadows  again  during  his  visit.  "  Would  it  be  a  long 
one  ?  "  she  paused  in  the  doorway  to  inquire. 

"  No ;  two  days  at  farthest." 

Hagar  caught  his  answer  with  trembling  eagerness.  She 
wished  him  to  go,  and  she  wished  him  to  stay.  If  she  was 
only  at  home !  but  here  —  no ;  it  was  better  that  his  visit 
was  to  be  a  short  one ;  for  how  could  she  learn  while  his 
eyes  were  between  her  and  the  book  ? 

"  Hagar,  what  have  I  done  to  be  received  in  this  way  ? 
You  would  have  been  met  with  no  such  freezing  welcome 
as  this  if  our  positions  had  been  reversed." 

Hagar  was  subdued  in  an  instant. 

"I  am  so  sorry,  Walter  —  I  am,  indeed!"  she  cried, 
flinging  her  arms  about  him.  She  was  only  a  child  in 
years,  reader,  -r- just  past  fourteen,  —  and  one  who  had 
always  been  allowed  the  rein  of  her  impulses.  Anna  was 
three  years  her  senior,  and  Walter  six ;  so  in  reality  her 
loving,  infantile  ways  might  well  pass  for  those  of  child 
hood.  In  that  light,  however,  none  who  knew  her  well 
ever  ventured  to  class  her.  I  do  not  think  Walter  judged 
of  her  as  the  womanly  little  thing  she  was.  She  was  so 


36  H  A  G  A  R     THE      MARTYR. 

large  of  her  age,  so  fully  developed,  and  so  sensible  on 
most  points !  In  her  love  for  Walter  all  other  sentiments 
and  sensations  were  blended.  Of  the  passion  of  love  she 
knew  nothing,  although  the  tinge  of  wild,  warm  blood 
swelling  her  veins  predisposed  her  to  enthusiastic  demon 
stration  in  her  own  childlike  way ;  but  of  its  purity  she 
was  imbued  —  soul,  sense,  and  nature.  It  did  not  surprise 
Anna,  therefore,  when,  after  her  interview  with  Walter, 
she  flung  her  arms  around,  her  neck,  and,  raining  kisses 
upon  her  lips,  her  hands,  and  her  hair,  besought  her  for 
giveness  for  her  rudeness  in  the  arbor  scene.  The  next 
two  days  were  days  of  happiness  and  joy  to  Hagar,  as  well 
as  Walter.  More  attentive,  more  devoted  she  could  not 
desire  him  to  be ;  and  if —  as  sometimes  she  did  —  she  saw 
the  beautiful  eyes  of  her  friend  fixed  mournfully  upon  his 
face,  it  elicited  no  sentiment  but  one  of  pity. 

"  Poor,  dear  Anna  ! "  she  would  say ;  "  I  wish  she  had 
somebody  to  love  as  I  love  you,  Walter.  Do  talk  to  her 
more ;  I  never  saw  her  so  melancholy  before." 

And  so  he  did  talk  to  her ;  and,  in  talking  to  her,  made 
the  discovery  that  she  was  not  only  a  very  intelligent  but  a 
very  attractive  girl.  There  may  have  been  a  heart  throb 
of  pride  in  his  bosom  to  think  that  one  of  her  superior 
attainments  should  take  such  pains  to  amuse  him ;  I  pre 
sume  there  was.  The  sex  are  as  susceptible  to  flattery  as 
the  softer  stratum  of  society ;  or,  at  least,  so  it  has  seemed 
to  me.  I  may  be  wrong ;  if  I  am  it  is  no  hanging  matter, 
fortunately. 


HAQAR     THE     MARTYR.  87 

Well,  the  days  passed,  hurriedly  enough  to  Hagar,  and 
Walter  had  said  farewell ;  but  in  parting  with  Anna  there 
was  an  "/  love  you,  Walter!"  beaming  from  her  eyes, 
which,  all  his  journey  home,  haunted  him,  with  a  soft,  sen 
suous,  dreamy  sensation,  very  far  from  being  unpleasant. 
But  Hagar  was  too  busy  watering  the  curls  of  her  friend 
with  her  tears  to  perceive  that  other  eyes  than  her  own 
had  received  his  last  farewell  —  a  merciful  dispensation  of 
Providence,  which  gave  to  her  a  few  weeks  more  of  unal 
loyed  trust  and  affection. 
4 


ofip  -' 

-.  •--..• 


,HAPTER    III. 

THE  UNWELCOME  SUMMONS.  —  THE  FAIEY  FRIEND. —  THE  LINK 
IK  THE  CHAIN  OP  CIBCUMSTANCES. 

THE  establishment  wherein  Hagar  was  domesticated,  like 
all  other  establishments  of  the  kind,  gave  sufficient  material 
for  the  restless,  excitable  temper  inherent  in  the  nature  of 
our  heroine.  I  have  always  said,  had  I  daughters  I  would 
never  trust  them  within  the  pale  of  boarding  school  moral 
ity.  There  are  too  many  elements  of  a  clashing  nature  — 
too  little  purity  of  thought  or  purpose.  A  quantity  of  girls, 
many  of  them  brimming  over  with  the  romance  of  a  first 
plunge  in  the  world's  bath,  congregate  together,  forming 
their  own  opinions  of  life,  and  oftentimes  hazarding  their 
teacher's  displeasure,  and  their  own  expulsion,  by  acts  of 
daring  disobedience,  which  pass  for  independence  and  fear 
less  breeding,  I  do  not  say  that  all  schools  combine  these 
qualities  to  feed  the  restless  mind ;  but  those  mothers  whose 
lives,  like  mine,  in  their  early  times,  were  passed  within  the 
shadow  of  a  boarding  school,  would  hesitate  long  enough 
before  sending  a  daughter  to  vegetate  and  form  her  views  of 
the  external  life  from  experiences  so  erroneously  founded. 

As  I  have  already  premised,  there  was  a  wild,  dark  tinge 
of  blood  in  the  nature  of  Hagar  that  sent  her  heedlessly 

(38) 


HAGAR      TUB      MARTYR.  39 

into  every  excitement  calculated  to  stir  and  quicken  the 
blood.  Equestrian  exercise  was  her  delight  and  pride. 
She  could  sit  the  most  fiery  horse  with  the  grace  and  ease 
of  a  thorough-bred  jockey.  Fences,  ditches,  walls,  all  were 
the  same  to  her.  It  was  a  word  and  a  leap  ;  the  beautiful 
Arabian  understanding  her  lightest  word,  and  paying  the 
most  implicit  obedience.  On  one  of  her  excursions,  having 
traversed  the  countiy  until  she  had  lost  herself,  she  came 
across  a  brook  too  shallow  to  wade,  and  too  deep  to  cross  in 
safety  by  herself. 

"  Trot  along,  Xerxes,"  she  whispered  in  the  ear  of  her 
Arabian,  as  she  slid  from  his  back  to  the  ground.  Xerxes, 
so  commanded,  stepped  gracefully  into  the  water,  turning 
his  head  over  now  and  then  to  see  if  his  mistress  intended 
following.  Hagar  laughed  one  of  her  wild,  long  laughs,  and 
commenced  picking  her  way  across  the  water  upon  the 
smoothly-polished  stones.  When  about  hah0  way  across  she 
paused,  having  come  to  a  depth  unexpected  by  her,  and  im 
possible  to  navigate.  She  was  speculating  upon  the  prac 
ticability  of  returning,  when  the  bushes  just  at  her  hand 
by  the  water's  edge  gave  a  sharp  crackle,  and  a  young  sports 
man,  gun  in  hand,  pitched  headlong  through  the  mass,  and 
landed  hi  rather  an  ungraceful  position  upon  the  sand.  Ha 
gar  turned  sharply  around,  and  would  have  suddenly  re 
treated,  but  the  ludicrousness  of  the^position  brought  forth 
another  of  her  musical  laughs. 

"  I  can't  say,  in  our  girlish  idiom,  Come  here,  and  I'll  pick 
you  up,  for  you  see  I  too  am  a  prisoner,"  said  she  with  a 
graceful  bow. 


40  H  A  G  A  R     THE      MARTYR. 

The  young  man  was  on  his  feet  in  an  instant,  and  in  an 
other  moment  at  the  side  of  Hagar. 

"  Excuse  me  if  I  pick  you  up  then,  as  my  position  seems 
least  onerous." 

Without  waiting  her  reply,  he  gathered  his  arm  around 
her  waist,  and  safely  landed  her  upon  the  opposite  side. 

"  As  your  knight-errant,  it  is  only  fair  for  you  to  inform 
me  what  nymph  I  have  rescued  from  a  watery  grave." 

"  Nay,  not  so  bad  as  that !  Suppose  now,  instead  of  al 
lowing  you  comfortably  to  bear  me  to  the  land,  I  had  gath 
ered  my  arms  around  you,  and  borne  you  to  my  cave  beneath 
the  water." 

"  Try  it !  try  it !  and  see  with  what  grace  I  will  surren 
der." 

"Look  there!" 

"Where?" 

"  As  far  as  the  eye  can  see  ! " 

"  I  see  nothing  ! " 

"  Give  me  your  gun  ! " 

A  flash,  an  echo,  and  the  noble  bird  lay  bleeding  at  her 
feet. 

"  Ah,  ha !  glorious !  Old  Warland  himself  couldn't  have 
made  a  better  shot ! " 

"  How  cruel  you  are !  " 

"Me!" 

"  I  should  not  think  it —  a  soft,  fragile  girl,  like  you,  to  be 
so  cruel.  What's  your  name  ?  " 

"  An  impertinent  question,  Sir  Squire." 


HAGAR      THE     MARTYR.  41 

"  I  am  impertinent ;  it  is  a  way  I  have." 

"  A  very  bad  way,  especially  where  ladies  are  con 
cerned." 

"  What  did  you  say  <  glorious '  for  when  you  killed  that 
poor  bird  ?  " 

"  It  was  too  ambitious !  It  was  soaring  too  near  the  sun, 
so  I  clipped  its  wings." 

"  How  would  you  like  your  wings  clipped,  Miss  Hagar  ?  " 

" Hagar  —  only  Hagar  ;  nobody  calls  me  miss" 

"  "Well,  Hagar,  then." 

"  There  doesn't  live  the  man  or  woman  who  could  clip  my 
wings.  They  were  made  for  soaring." 

"  But  you  have  no  right  to  take  life  —  even  a  bird's  life. 
The  poor  thing  is  dead." 

"And  what  is  death?" 

"  Something  I  have  no  wish  to  define  yet  a  while." 

"  Pshaw !  You  shrink  from  what  comes  to  all.  Now,  to 
me,  to  die  is  to  be  free  — free.  Unfettered  by  mortal  flesh 
—  away  from  mortal  ills !  I  never  see  death  but  I  long  to 
gather  myself  up  and  take  a  leap  across  the  flood  to  that 
land  of  freedom,  life  eternal  and  unchangeable  ! " 

Hagar  drew  herself  up  as  she  spoke,  with  a  holy  faith  in 
her  words  which  overshadowed  the  darkness  of  her  face. 

"  I  must  study  you" 

M  Two  words  to  that  bargain,  Sir  Knight !  Who  are  you  ? 
Are  you  presentable,  as  Madame  le  School-marm  says  ?" 

"Rather.  My  name  is  Lee,  at  your  service.  An  old 
name,  and  a  good  one  !  My  grandfather  fought,  bled,  and 
4* 


42  HAGAR     THE      MARTYR. 

died  in  the  service  of  his  country,  and  I  am  prepared  to  do 
the  same  service  by  you ! " 

"  0,  thank  you  ; "  and  Hagar  made  him  a  mocking  bow. 

"  I  have  a  thousand  negroes  at  my  service  —  own  a  farm 
—  a  score  of  horses  —  carriages  too  numerous  to  mention  — 
and " 

"  Have  a  first-rate  opinion  of  yourself,  generally,  eh  ?  " 
broke  in  Hagar.  "  I  shall  be  happy  to  make  your  acquaint 
ance.  You  want  a  thorn  to  pierce  that  egotism  of  yours, 
and  it  will  take  me  to  leave  you  limp  and  reasonable." 

"  Take  care.     I  may  turn  the  tables." 

« I'll  risk  it." 

«  May  I  try  ?  " 

"  Certainly.     There's  my  card." 

"  Why,  you  are  at  school  with  my  Erne ! " 

"  And  who's  your  Effie,  pray  ? ' 

"My  Effie  Rose!  The  dearest,  sweetest,  truest  little 
Rose  that  ever  bloomed !  She  can  break  a  horse,  ride  a 
race,  leap  a  hurdle,  fire  at  a  mark,  and  is  the  most  dashing 
little  dare-devil  you  ever  —  Hello  !  " 

The  last  expression  was  caused  by  the  leaping  of  a  fence 
by  a  powerful  white  gelding,  upon  whose  back  sat,  as  if  she 
had  grown  there,  the  same  Effie  Rose  the  young  sportsman 
had  just  been  describing.  Down  she  came,  thundering  over 
the  hill  and,  waving  her  cap  with  an  air  of  triumph  which 
seemed  to  say,  "  Better  that  if  you  can." 

"  Aha,  Charley !  I  haven't  spoiled  sport,  I  hope  !  How 
long  since  this  agreeable  rendezvous  has  been  in  vogue  ?  " 


II  A  G  A  K      THE      M  A  It  T  V  11  .  43 

"  It  is  no  rendezvous,  Effie,"  began  Hagar.  "  Charley 
— what's  his  other  name  ?  — O,  Lee  !  Well,  Mr.  Lee  hap 
pened  here  by  accident  just  in  time  to  rescue  me  from  a 
watery  grave;"  and  her  merry  eyes  twinkled  down  into 
the  still  water  lying  at  their  feet. 

"  Never  mind.  I  accept  your  apology.  But  take  care 
of  Charley.  He's  a  desperate  fellow  —  in  his  own  opinion 
—  a  regular  woman-killer !  Why,  I  have  been  as  good  as 
dead  these  twelve  months  !  0,  by  the  by,  I'm  in  search  of 
you,  Hagar.  There's  somebody  at  the  hall  who  wants  es 
pecial  audience  with  you.  A  solemn-looking  fellow,  in  deep 
black.  I  was  lucky  to  find  you.  0,  you  rogue,  Charley. 
Can't  you  let  the  girls  alone  one  day  out  of  seven  ?  O,  I've 
a  rod  in  pickle  for  you  yet.  Come,  Hagar." 

As  she  wheeled  her  horse  to  go,  Lee  managed  to  seize  a 
moment  upon  Hagar's  hand. 

"  Let  me  visit  you  at  the  hall !  I  shall  be  miserable  till 
I  see  you ! " 

"  Don't  believe  him,"  chimed  in  Effie,  who  had  caught 
the  concluding  words.  "  He  said  the  same  thing  to  me  yes 
terday,  and  he  will  say  the  same  thing  to  the  next  girl  he 
meets.  0,  what  a  Charley  !  "  And  off  they  galloped  to 
the  hall,  leaving  Lee  looking  wistfully  after  them. 


CHAPTEE    IV. 

THE  FATAL  STEP.  — THE  DEMOS  MAN.  —  THE  DESTINY  SPELL. 

"  There  was  a  shadow  on  his  face  that  spoke 
Of  passion  long  since  hardened  into  thought. 
He  had  a  smile,  —  a  cold  and  scornful  smile,  — 
Not  gayety  nor  sweetness,  but  the  sign 
Of  feelings  moulded  at  their  master's  will. 
A  weary  world  was  hidden  in  that  heart ; 
Sorrow  and  strife.     It  now  could  only  feel 
Distrust  in  love  —  and  mockery  for  those 
Who  could  believe  in  what  he  knew  was  vain." 

L.  E.  L. 

I  AM  a  fatalist  —  soul,  sense,  and  spirit  a  fatalist !  I 
believe  that  every  turning  point  of  our  existence  is  so  laid 
out  that  it  is  impossible  to  avoid  its  encounter ;  that  every 
prominent  incident  of  our  lives  has  been  set  apart  for  us 
at  the  beginning.  Things  which  in  the  world's  vocabu 
lary  stand  for  luck  and  chance  are  fatalities  —  dire,  dread 
ful,  or  agreeable  fatalities,  as  the  case  may  be.  But  ser 
monizing  is  not  my  forte  ;  to  those  who  would  know  the 
book  from  which  I  take  my  impressions  of  life,  I  can  only 
say,  from  the  leaves  of  my  own  experience.  If  that  will 
not  suffice,  let  them  look  down  the  track  of  their  own  years, 
and  find  there,  dropped  by  the  wayside,  incidents  which, 
adorn  them  as  you  may,  still  wear  the  features  of  fatality. 

The  setting  sun  was  pouring  its  last  tribute  of  gold  upon 


HAGAR      THE     MARTYR.  4 

the  little  village  of  Eccleson  (its  romantic  name)  as  the 
two  equestrians  galloped  through  an  opening  in  the  forest, 
and  came  dashing  up  the  path  leading  to  the  academy.  It 
was  a  beautiful  scene,  full  of  that  still  life  which  the  night 
smile  of  the  setting  sun  ever  leaves  upon  the  face  of  nature. 
There  was  scarcely  a  breath  of  air  to  ripple  up  the  slum 
bering  leaves,  or  trouble  the  emerald  waters  glistening  in 
the  rich  light.  The  two  girls  for  a  moment  seemed  aware 
of  the  beauty  of  the  sunset,  for,  giving  their  horses  a  loose 
rein,  they  subsided  into  a  slow  walk,  almost  monotonous  in 
its  measured  echo. 

With  a  quick  impulse  Hagar,  who  was  in  advance,  sud 
denly  wheeled  around,  and  came  to  a  stand  in  front  of  her 
companion. 

"Why,  Hagar,  how  pale  you  are!  What  is  the  mat 
ter?" 

"I  am  going  to  meet  my  fate!  I  feel  it  here,"  —  pla 
cing  her  hand  upon  her  heart,  —  "  here,  Erne,  as  I  felt  it 
once  before,  as  I  lay  in  my  mother's  dying  arms.  There 
is  a  shadow  rising  between  me  and  the  hall  —  a  cold,  drea 
ry  shadow  —  a  sort  of  mist,  from  out  of  which  glimmers 
something  —  I  know  not  what !  If  I  was  superstitious,  I 
should  say  my  mother's  eyes  —  so  wild,  so  mournful !  " 

"  Hagar !  The  strong,  powerful,  self-reliant  Hagar  — 
Hagar  that  we  all  envy  and  half  fear  —  is  it  you  that  are 
indulging  in  superstitious  fancies  ?  Come,  you'll  lose  your 
crown  if  the  girls  get  hold  of  it.  I'll  risk  any  thing  worse 
than  a  man  at  the  hall.  Ogres  and  gnomes  are  bygones, 


46  HAGAR     THE     MARTYR. 

more's  the  pity  ;  and  as  for  the  shadow,  why,  it  is  the  veri 
est  fancy  of  a  tired  brain.  Why,  Hagar ;  poor  little  in 
significant  me,  that  haven't  even  a  kink  of  genius  in  my 
brain  to  recommend  me,  am  your  superior  now  !  I'll  soon 
dispel  your  gloom  ;  so  follow  to  the  rescue." 

"  Don't,  Effie,  don't  be  irreverent." 

"  I'm  not  irreverent ;  but  when  I  hear  one  like  you  talk 
ing  of  fate,  it  seems  too  ridiculous  to  listen  to.  But  see, 
there  is  the  stranger  standing  at  the  window ;  do  you  know 
him  ?  " 

A  tremor  swept  through  the  veins  of  Hagar,  as  her  eyes 
were  raised  to  meet  those  burning  at  her  through  the  panes 

glass. 
° 

"  I  tell  you,  Erne,  the  shadow  is  certainly  falling.  There 
is  something  more  than  fancy  in  all  this ;  believe  me,  I 
should  never  feel  so  acutely  the  presence  of  a  mere  common 
stranger." 

Hagar  tossed  her  reins  to  the  groom  in  waiting,  and 
walked  straight  to  the  room  where  the  visitor  awaited  her 
presence. 

"  You  sit  a  horse  as  if  you  was  born  in  the  saddle,  lady," 
was  the  remark  which  first  greeted  her  ear. 

"  I  love  the  exercise  —  the  wild,  free,  glorious  exercise. 
I  always  ride  when  I  am  out  of  spirits  ;  it  is  an  excellent 
opiate  for  thought.  Did  you  ever  try  it  ?  " 

The  stranger  raised  his  eyes  for  the  first  time,  and  Ha 
gar  as  readily  dropped  hers. 

"  You  laugh,  sir." 


H  A  C  A  R     THE     MARTYR.  47 

"  How  do  you  know  ?     You  are  not  looking." 

This  was  a  challenge,  indirect  to  be  sure,  but  too  positive 
to  allow  her  to  pass  it  over. 

"  I'm  looking  now  !  "  She  laughed  much  after  his  own 
strain  of  bantering ;  and,  truly,  it  must  have  been  a  stout 
heart-  that  could  have  borne  the  eagle  glance  of  her  great 
eyes. 

She  did  look,  and  such  a  face  it  was  that  met  her 
scrutiny !  Gentleness  and  ferocity,  humility  and  self-reli 
ance,  tenderness  and  indifference,  the  antipodes  of  all  good 
and  bad  passions,  seemed  gathered  in  warfare,  and  each 
lighting  for  supremacy.  A  forehead,  low,  broad,  and  mas 
sive,  glittered  out  from  kinks  of  yellowish-brown  hair ; 
cheek  bones  high  and  rugged ;  a  firm,  square-set  mouth 
closed  habitually  with  an  expression  of  determination ;  lips 
full  and  prominent.  Such  was  the  appearance  of  his  fea 
tures  when  reposing  in  their  awful  stillness.  But  his  smile 
—  I  have  been  trying  to  think  of  something  to  which  to 
liken  it.  To  sunshine  ?  No  ;  that  is  too  pure  a  compari 
son.  The  glittering  scales  of  the  serpent  were  nearer  its 
fascinating  brilliancy.  The  gazer  dwelt  upon  it  with  the 
same  pleasing  terror  that  a  bird  might  feel  when  fluttering 
nearer  and  nearer  to  the  open-mouthed  charmer,  charming 
to  devour.  You  would  not  meet  with  another  such  smile 
within  a  circle  of  centuries.  So  dark,  and  glittering,  and 
solemn;  so  profound,  and  silent,  and  convincing.  There 
was  no  emotion  it  did  not  combine  within  its  range  of  ex 
pression.  That  wondrous  smile  !  —  still,  gentle,  smooth,  and 


48  HAGAB     THE     MARTYR 

seductive,  it  crept  from  feature  to  feature,  lighting  up  that 
otherwise  repulsive  face  with  a  radiance  at  once  fascinating 
and  fearful. 

"  You  are  taking  your  time  over  my  face  ;  I  hope  you 
like  it,"  he  said,  after  submitting  to  her  scrutiny  for  some 
minutes  in  silence. 

"  Not  at  all.     I  have  seldom  seen  a  face  I  like  less." 

"  Candid,  at  all  events.  Now,  do  you  know,  I  like  candor 
above  all  things.  I  don't  believe  there  is  another  girl  in 
the  world  that  would  have  answered  me  so  abruptly.  Come, 
sit  beside  me,  and  let  me  talk  to  you.  What  do  you  see  in 
my  face  to  dislike  ?  " 

"  I  see  sincerity  overshadowed  by  cruelty.  I  see  a  devil's 
frown  under  an  angel's  smile.  I  see  a  will,  a  purpose,  and 
a  determination  in  the  corners  of  your  mouth,  and  I  pray 
God  that  I  may  never  be  so  unfortunate  as  to  attract 
you." 

"  You  do  already  attract  me.  I  repel  you,  that  is  evi 
dent  ;  you  recoil  from  me !  Take  care !  There  is  an 
instinct  —  a  natural  enough  instinct  —  implanted  in  every 
heart  to  hunt  that  which  flies  from  us.  The  excitement  of 
the  chase  you  know.  Now,  I  possess  more  than  my  share 
of  this  instinct.  Hagar,  if  I  choose  to  wind  my  will  around 
your  repugnance,  you  could  no  more  elude  my  grasp  than 
you  can  free  yourself  from  this  arm  till  I  choose  to  release 
you." 

Before  she  was  aware  of  his  object,  hia  arm  had  encir 
cled  her  waist  like  a  bar  of  iron. 


n  A  G  A  R      THE     MARTYR.  49 

"Sir!"  The  proud,  the  lofty,  the  magnificent  Hagar 
in  the  embrace  of  a  strange  man ! 

"I  beg  your  pardon,  Miss  Martin,"  he  said,  releasing 
her  with  all  the  gallantry  of  the  southern  race.  "  Your 
manner  was  so  piquant  —  excuse  me  if  I  say  abrupt  — 
that  I  was  tempted  into  a  little  harmless  pleasantry.  We 
are  strangers  again." 

Hagar  bowed,  but  the  blush  of  shame  still  dyed  her 
cheek,  and  her  lip  quivered  with  indignation. 

"  You  have  a  message  for  me,  I  believe,"  she  went  on. 

"  Yes.  Your  father  desires  me  to  instruct  you  somewhat 
in  relation  to  home  affairs,  and  afterwards  to  conduct  you 
to  the  Leclerk  plantation.  He  is  on  the  eve  of  mar 
riage." 

"My  father?" 

"  Yes ;  is  there  any  thing  strange  in  that  ?  How  many 
years  has  your  mother  been  dead  ?  " 

«  Ten." 

"  That  makes  you  fourteen ;  well,  ten  years  of  loneli 
ness  have  induced  him  to  enter  once  more  into  the  bonds 
of  wedlock." 

"  And  who  is  the  bride  ?  Strange  he  has  never  written 
me." 

"  A  Miss  Montague,  daughter  of  Montague  the  sheriff. 
Not  a  very  lofty  match ;  but  he  is  old  enough  to  brave  the 
ridicule  of  neighbors ;  besides,  Miss  Montague  is  the  hand 
somest  woman  I  ever  saw,  not  excepting  present  company, 
as  one  is  in  duty  bound." 
5 


50  HAGAR     THE     MARTYR. 

An  impatient  exclamation  was  Hagar's  only  answer  to 
his  ungallant  remark. 

"  You  are  angry.  Your  pride  is  hurt,  that  your  father 
should  have  stooped  to  a  plebeian." 

"  No  ;  I  am  too  thorough  a  republican  to  care  for  that ! 
He  was  the  conservator  of  rank.  I  am  wondering  what 
overmastered  his  prejudice." 

"  Her  beauty,  perhaps  ;  may  be  her  virtue." 

Hagar  raised  her  eyes  just  in  time  to  catch  one  of  those 
strange,  baneful  glances  for  which  his  face  was  renowned. 
It  lasted  but  a  moment,  and  passed  away  again  like  the 
swooping  of  some  dark  shadow ;  but  the  sensation  remained, 
telling  her  that  there  was  some  mystery,  perhaps  some  vile 
plot,  which  her  presence  might  counteract, 

"  You  know  her,  then  ? "  questioned  Hagar,  bending 
upon  his  face  her  own  searching  glance. 

"Know  her!     By " 

*8ir'/m 

"  Pardon  me.  I  am  accustomed  to  strange  spasms  of 
pain.  At  that  moment  one  assailed  me,  and  —  I  trust  you 
will  pardon  me.  I  have  been  rather  unfortunate,  I  fear, 
in  the  impression  my  visit  is  likely  to  create.  If  you  will 
excuse  me,  I  will  return  now  to  my  hotel,  and  give  you  the 
next  few  hours  for  the  purpose  of  making  the  necessary 
preparations  for  departure." 

He  bowed  himself  out ;  but  not  before  Hagar  had  taken 
in  all  the  convulsions  of  that  singular  face. 

"  I  never  saw  any  thing  so  wild,  so  ferocious,  in  my  life. 


II  A  GAR      THE      MAKTYK.  51 

He  looked  like  a  hungry  tiger,  waiting  to  spring -upon  his 
prey.  There's  a  mystery  here.  I  must  forget  self  for 
a  while,  and  see  into  what  sort  of  a  net  my  poor  father  is 
placing  his  head.  Poor  father !  he  has  never  been  himself 
since  my  mother  died." 


CHAPTER    V. 

PHKPARATIONS  FOR  A  WEDDING.  —  THE   BEAUTIFUL  BRIDE.— 
THE  BROKEN  FAITH. 


"  O,  mine  was  but  a  perjured  faith, 

And  mine  a  broken  vow, 
Else  he  I  loved,  and  who  loved  me, 
"Were  here  beside  me  now." 


THINGS  turn  out  strangely  in  this  rare  old  world  of  ours. 
Events  tangle  themselves  up  with  events,  incidents  clash 
with  rival  incidents,  so  rapidly  and  imperceptibly,  that  one 
cannot  help  wondering 

"  If  this  be  all  of  earth  — 
And  nought  beyond —  0  Death  ! " 

For  many  years  after  the  death  of  his  wife,  Alva  Martin 
had  eschewed  woman's  society  for  the  cultivation  of  an  ex 
pansive  and  noble  intellect,  which  in  all  his  early  years  had 
lain  dormant.  It  was  a  season  of  great  political  excitement, 
and  his  eloquent  appeals,  somewhat  stormy  and  passionate, 
stirred  up  the  waves  of  public  feeling,  as  the  winds  stir  up 
the  ocean's  billows.  He  was  practical  as  well  as  eloquent. 
He  sent  the  scalping  knife  of  his  indignation  to  the  heart 
of  political  antagonisms,  and  laid  bare  their  discordant  ele- 

(52) 


HAGAB     THE     MARTYR.  53 

ments.  He  denounced  to  their  teeth  partisan  traitors,  who 
thought  to  climb  into  notoriety  upon  the  downfall  and  dis- 
severment  of  the  Union.  He  dissected  the  elements  and 
individualities  of  slave  life  —  the  flint  and  steel  with  which 
wrong-headed  and  wrong-hearted  men  have  vainly  endeav 
ored  to  strike  a  fire  which  should  devastate  and  lay  waste 
our  beautiful  union  of  states.  He  was  the  people's  idol ; 
the  pride,  the  boast,  and  the  toast  of  his  party.  Bursts  of 
genuine  applause  and  enthusiasm  greeted  his  appearance, 
while  young  men  and  old  hung  around  him,  anxious  and 
happy  to  get  a  glance  from  the  eagle  eye,  whose  sturdy 
strength  bespoke  a  heart  immaculate  in  its  untiring  integ 
rity.  Candidates  for  office  wooed  his  influence,  and  sought 
to  propitiate  his  judgment  in  their  favor.  It  was  easy  to 
tell  when  Alva  Martin  had  left  the  trail  of  his  fiery  elo 
quence  upon  any  of  the  boroughs  of  his  native  state.  For 
days  and  days  after,  excited  groups,  with  earnest  eyes  and 
flushed  cheeks,  would  congregate  for  discussion  or  contro 
versy.  His  eloquence  was  of  the  convincing  kind,  which 
not  only  carried  conviction  with  it,  but  an  ambition  to  emu 
late  his  lofty  impulses.  His  honest  zeal  in  behalf  of  his 
country,  his  self-absorbing,  all-engrossing  love  of  justice,  in 
all  its  phases,  was  not  allowed  to  go  unrewarded. 

lu  the  fall  of  183—,  his  name  was  up  as  candidate  for  a 
responsible  station  at  Washington,  and  with  an  almost  unan 
imous  vote  he  was  elected.  It  was  during  a  fiery  and  pas 
sionate  debate  upon  the  floor  of  the  Senate  chamber  that 
his  eye  was  arrested,  and  his  very  heart  almost  stilled,  by 
5* 


54  HAGAB     THE     MARTYR. 

the  sight  of  a  young  girl  of  gorgeous  beauty,  who  sat  gazing 
at  him  from  the  gallery,  and  whose  parted  lips  and  flushed 
cheeks  told  how  much  of  soul  and  sense  there  was  in- 
wrapped  in  the  eloquence  of  the  stringent  orator.  It  was 
in  the  centre  of  a  graceful  pause,  while  his  hand  brushed 
away  the  damp  and  tangled  locks  that  lay  heavy  upon  his 
forehead,  that  the  vision  first  became  prominent  to  his  gaze. 
It  was  a  truly  Madonna  face,  shrined  thence  in  its  golden 
curls  —  a  Madonna  face,  marred  by  an  expression  of  re 
pressed  eagerness,  but  none  the  less  lovely  for  that  expres 
sion.  The  thrilling  words  —  the  arguments  of  massive 
strength  which  had  swayed  that  multitude  into  demonstra 
tive  delight  —  had  awed  that  fair,  fresh  beauty  into  a  solemn 
stillness  of  admiration,  a  thousand  times  more  flattering  to 
the  speaker  than  all  the  waving  of  handkerchiefs,  or  the 
more  vociferous  bravos  which  gave  eclat  to  the  occasion  so 
long  to  be  remembered. 

Great  sensation  is  always  wordless  ;  and  the  boundless 
enthusiasm,  which  burst  forth  in  noisy  tumult,  annoyed, 
rather  than  gratified,  the  "  star  "  of  the  day.  How  grateful, 
then,  was  the  silent  homage  of  that  queen  of  beauty,  radiat 
ing  the  chamber  from  her  crowded  seat  in  the  gallery  !  All 
that  remained  of  the  speech  (luckily  it  was  nearly  at  its 
termination)  was  wild  and  erratic.  He  had  fascinated  his 
assemblage,  however,  and  any  incoherence  or  inconsistence 
of  speech  would  now  have  passed  without  comment.  He 
hurried  on,  impatient  of  release  —  impatient  to  see  more, 
learn  more  of  the  fair  being  who  had  enslaved  him.  Never 


HAGAU     THE     MAKTYR.  55 

before,  since  the  death  of  his  wife,  had  woman's  beauty 
stirred  the  slumberous  depths  of  his  sensuous  heart.  He 
had  mourned  for  his  young  wife  as  they  mourn  who  feel 
that  half  th&  love,  duty,  and  honor  belonging  to  their  dead 
had  been  forgotten  or  neglected  till  the  grave  cast  its  long 
shadow  between  them  and  atonement.  But  noiv,  the  warm 
passionate  beauty  of  that  lily  girl  brought  into  being  a  de 
licious,  craving,  unconquerable  love,  which  was  half  passion, 
and  all  madness.  In  vain  he  strove  to  shut  his  eyes  to  the 
picture  before  him.  There  she  sat,  more  fascinating  in  her 
tender,  languid  beauty  than  had  ever  been  to  him  the  dark- 
eyed,  passion-hearted  children  of  the  sunny  south,  in  their 
most  sparkling  guises.  Who  was  she  ?  That  was  the  one 
question  of  his  tumultuous  heart.  To  whom  she  belonged 
was  another  consideration.  He  would  snatch  her  from  them, 
if  the  next  moment  saw  him  an  outcast  and  a  felon.  His 
she  must  be  at  all  hazards !  The  wild  tinge  of  Spanish 
blood  which  his  mother  had  bequeathed  him  was  boiling 
with  impatience  and  desire.  His  vivacity  forsook  him  ;  hi3 
eloquence  paled  before  his  extravagant  passion,  and  excus 
ing  himself  on  the  plea  of  sudden  indisposition,  he  very  ab 
ruptly  brought  his  speech  to  a  termination. 

From  the  first  encounter  of  eyes,  Lola  Montague  (for  she 
it  was)  had  kept  hers  veiled  beneath  their  long,  shadowy 
lashes  ;  nor  was  it  till  the  voice  of  the  speaker,  grown  sin 
gularly  husky  and  uneven,  announced  the  conclusion  of  the 
speech,  that  there  was  the  least  demonstration  of  life  or  vi 
tality  in  that  undulating  figure.  Then  slowly  and  languidly 


56  II  A  G  A  R      THE      MARTYR. 

she  lifted  them  once  more  to  where  the  speaker  stood.  A 
deeper  flush  melted  into  her  cheek  —  a  triumphant  flush, 
for  she  knew,  by  intuition,  what  had  occasioned  the  sudden 
indisposition  of  their  orator.  The  fiery  heat  which  filled 
his  veins  found  no  response  in  hers ;  she  could  not  "  love 
because  that  she  did  love ; "  but  ambition  was  stronger  in 
her  breast  than  any  other  passion ;  she  had  made  a  con 
quest  worthy  the  name  —  wealth,  rank,  social  distinction  ; 
desires  which  had  been  as  Utopian  dreams  to  her  young 
imagination,  were  here,  ready  for  her  clasp  to  close  upon 
them.  No  longer  the  despised  governess  ;  no  longer  slight 
ed  for  her  position  ;  no  longer  the  convenience  of  those  whose 
native  possessions  were  not  half  of  hers.  It  was  of  all  this 
she  thought,  while  sitting  dreamily  under  the  spell  of  elo 
quence.  To  disdain  those  who  had  scornfully  passed  her 
by ;  to  read  the  deprecating  glance  of  those  who  now  dis 
dained  to  recognize  her  existence ;  to  plant  her  foot  upon 
the  necks  of  those  who  had  humbled  her,  —  O,  this  was  a  re 
venge  too  sweet  to  lose ;  and  she  determined  to  follow  up 
the  advantage  she  had  gained.  She  knew  that  her  taste 
was  refined  and  critical ;  she  knew  that  her  education  was 
thorough  and  practical;  her  glass  told  her  that  her  face 
needed  only  the  surroundings  of  wealth  to  make  it  as  beau 
tiful  as  a  dream.  With  her  husband,  and  such  a  husband, 
what  more  could  her  wildest  ambition,  her  most  luxurious 
taste,  aspire  to  ?  She  was  still  under  the  influence  of  such 
musings,  when  a  hand  rested  gently  upon  her  shoulder. 
"  Dreaming  again,  Lola ! "  said  a  manly  voice  in  her  ear. 


HAGAR     THE     MARTYR.  57 

The  deep  blush,  the  sudden  start,  the  wild  bound  of  her 
heart  seemed  striving  to  say,  "  Smother  your  ambition,  or 
peace  is  gone  forever ! " 

Coldly  and  silently  she  allowed  her  companion  to  adjust 
the  shawl  upon  her  graceful  shoulders ;  then,  taking  his 
arm,  she  threaded  her  way  out  among  the  crowd.  The 
statesman's  eye  had  been  the  last  to  take  in  her  own  as  she 
rose  to  depart;  and,  with  a  feeling  amounting  almost  to 
exultation,  she  noted  the  jealous  glance  bestowed  upon  her 
companion ;  consequently,  she  was  as  much  surprised  as 
pleased  to  meet  again  at  the  door  that  same  lustrous  pair 
of  eyes. 

"  Who  is  she  ?  "  murmured  Martin,  as  she  disappeared  in 
the  crowd. 

"  Why,  man  alive !  you  are  not  fascinated  with  Laird's 
governess,  are  you  ?  " 

"  She  a  governess !     Impossible  !  " 

"  Why  impossible  ?  " 

"  So  haughty,  so  imperious,  so  self-possessed." 

"  And  you  may  add,  so  self-reliant.  All  of  these  quali 
ties  she  has  in  the  fullest  abundance.  Nevertheless,  she  is 
the  governess  of  as  thorny  a  little  piece  of  womanhood  as 
ever  you  encountered,  I'll  be  sworn.  I've  business  at 
Laird's  this  evening ;  if  you  like,  walk  up  the  avenue  with 
me,  and  see  your  dove  in  its  nest." 

"  Is  she  accessible  ?  " 

"  0,  yes.  Laird  is  a  widower,  with  one  child.  Lola 
Montague's  parents  are  poor,  and  cannot  bear  the  burden 


58  HAGAB     THE      MARTYR. 

of  their  own  infirmities,  much  less  those  of  a  grown-up 
daughter.  By  the  by,  now  I  think  of  it,  this  Lola  must 
possess  rather  more  than  the  usual  share  of  fascination. 
There  was  some  trouble  —  I  scarcely  know  what  —  be 
tween  Laird  and  herself,  that  caused  her  to  return  home  in 
a  hurry.  That  was  settled,  however;  but  from  what  I 
know  of  him,  I  should  not  like  his  enmity.  People  think 
he  tried  to  get  her  on  his  own  terms,  and,  failing  in  that, 
intends  to  offer  her  hers.  She  has  a  cousin,  or  a  lover,  or 
something,  which  thorns  Laird  considerably." 

"  Does  Laird  belong  here  ?  " 

"  No ;  he  passes  the  whiter  here  with  Lola  and  his  girl. 
This  is  Miss  Montague's  third  winter  in  Washington ;  and 
had  she  been  half  as  rich  as  she  is  handsome,  some  one 
would  have  borne  the  bird  to  a  golden  cage  before  this 
tune,  I'm  certain." 

For  some  time  they  walked  along  in  silence,  when  Mar 
tin  again  took  up  the  thread  of  the  discourse. 

"  You  say  if  she  had  been  as  rich  as  she  is  handsome. 
Ought  lack  of  wealth  to  stand  between  a  virtuous,  beautiful 
girl  and  her  social  elevation  ?  " 

u  No  —  probably  not,  in  the  eye  of  right ;  but  might  has 
so  ordained  it,  and  there  is  no  escaping  its  ordeal.  These 
are  things  which  we  can't  contend  with.  Society  has  ele 
vated  wealth  over  worth,  and  we  must  even  bide  its  require 
ments." 

"  Not  I,  for  one,"  stoutly  asserted  Mr.  Martin, 

«Eh?" 


HAGAR     THE     MARTYR.  59 

"  If  my  fancy  should  chance  to  hit  upon  a  poor  girl, 
whose  character  would  admit  of  sanction,  her  poverty 
would  be  the  last  obstacle  I  should  allow  to  interfere  with 
my  happiness." 

"  But,  my  dear  fellow,  there  are  grades  which  never 
commingle.  It  would  be  impossible  to  take  a  wife  from 
the  medium  classes  and  graft  her  upon  the  tree  of  fashion 
—  impossible.  We  are,  of  course,  only  talking  for  talk's 
sake ;  but,  believe  me,  no  more  imprudent  union  could  be 
made  than  between  a  plebeian  and  an  aristocrat." 

"  But  a  plebeian  may  be  an  aristocrat  in  desire,  in  taste, 
in  refinement,  and  in  intellect." 

"  Very  true ;  but  can  you  convince  the  world  of  that 
fact?  Could  you,  loving  your  wife  as  your  hot  nature 
would  be  likely  to  love,  bear  to  see  her  slighted,  snubbed, 
or  at  best  received  with  a  questionable  recognition  ?  Why, 
you  would  be  in  hot  water  from  one  year's  end  to  another, 
with  the  satisfaction  of  achieving  nothing  in  the  end  but 
ridicule." 

"  Nevertheless,  I  am  determined  to  try  the  experiment ; 
that  is,  should  I  chance  to  meet  a  person  worthy  of  the  trial. 
But  here  we  are  at  the  hotel.  To-night  you  say " 

"  At  eight  I'll  come  for  you." 

The  companions  separated;  the  one  to  speculate  upon 
the  possibility  of  a  person  in  the  lower  ranks  of  life  being 
recognized  within  the  circle  of  aristocracy,  the  other  to 
decorate  himself  in  his  most  becoming  garb,  and  to  paint 
pictures  upon  the  canvas  of  imagination,  wherein  a  lily 


60  HAGAR     THE      MARTYR. 

face  with  crimson  lips  and  golden  curls  mostly  predomi 
nated. 

Lola  Montague  and  her  companion  reached  her  home  in 
silence.  Being  accustomed  to  a  familiar  reception,  he  went 
in  with  her  and  sat  alone  in  the  receiving  room  till  Lola 
disrobed  herself  of  her  walking  paraphernalia.  For  once 
the  society  of  her  cousin  was  irksome  to  her.  She  felt 
guilty  of  infidelity,  at  least  in  thought,  and  desired  to  be 
alone  with  her  vascillating  nature  long  enough  to  decide 
upon  her  future  course.  It  was  nothing  that  the  noble  and 
distinguished  man  had  not  even  the  pleasure  of  a  speaking 
acquaintance.  She  knew  he  would  find  some  means  to 
effect  it,  and  that  its  result  would  be  an  open  and  decided 
proposal.  He  was  the  soul  of  honor,  so  his  constituents 
said,  and  Lola  knew  his  integrity  too  well  by  report  to  fear 
any  thing  but  an  honorable  proposal. 

"  I  was  not  pleased  with  Mr.  Martin's  admiration  of  you 
to-day,  Lola,"  said  her  lover,  on  her  return. 

"  For  my  part,  I  thought  it  exceedingly  flattering,"  she 
replied,  tapping  her  shoe  upon  the  carpet  by  way  of  amuse 
ment. 

"  Flattering !  The  bold,  undisguised  stare  of  &  liber 
tine  ! " 

"  No,  no,  Charles ;  not  a  libertine !  A  young  girl  like 
me  ought  not  to  define  the  difference  between  an  honest 
look  of  admiration  and  the  disgusting  fire  of  a  libertine's 
glance.  But  you  know  I'm  not  like  other  girls,  and  I  have 
felt  the  difference  in  the  burning  of  my  cheek  and  the 


II  A  G  A  K     THE      MARTYR.  61 

indignant  tumult  of  my  heart  often  enough  to  be  a  judge. 
No ;  there  was  nothing  that  the  most  exacting-  nature  could 
find  to  carp  at  in  his  earnest  gaze." 

"And  you  are  pleased  with  it?  Lola  Georgiana, your 
ambition  will  ring  the  death  knell  of  happiness !  " 

"  You  are  right.  I  do  not  recoil  from  sharing  your  pov 
erty,  Charles,  but  I  do  your  obscurity.  I  can't  help  it,  and 
it  is  better  I  tell  you  so  now,  than  when  it  is  too  late !  To 
be  rich  is  nothing ;  but  to  be  great  and  powerful  would  be. 
worth  the  sacrifice  of  even " 

"  Even  of  my  love  !  " 

"Even  so,  Charles.  It  is  the  first  time  I  have  had 
courage  to  say  it ;  but  I  feel  more  to-day  than  ever  before 
that  my  affection  would  die  out  in  view  of  position  and 
rank  to  which  I  never  might  aspire.  It  would  be  a  lifelong 
misery  to  us  both.  I  dare  not  —  O  Charles,  pity  me  !  —  I 
icill  not  risk  the  after  torment  of  regretting  unavailing 
evils ! " 

Lola's  face  grew  pale  and  sad,  but  beyond  that  there  was 
no-  visible  agitation. 

"It  ought  never  to  have  been,"  she  went  on;  "and 
something  tells  me  now  that  I  shall  yet  feel  the  misery  I 
am  inflicting  upon  you.  My  dreams  have  always  been  of 
ambition,  and  I  cannot  renounce  them.  I  have  tried,  for  I 
know  I  shall  never  again  meet  with  a  heart  so  true  as 
yours ;  but  they  come  again  with  redoubled  force,  and 
would  madden  me  had  my  own  act  placed  a  barrier  between 
them  and  fulfilment." 
G 


62  HAGAR     THE     MARTYR. 

"  Lola !  Georgia !  But  no  !  Unworthy  that  you  are,  I 
will  not  plead  with  you.  I  leave  you  to  your  own  reflec 
tion.  If  you  still  persist  in  this  reckless  ambition,  farewell 
to  love,  happiness,  every  thing  that  makes  life  an  object 
worth  contending  for ! " 

He  was  gone!  and  in  one  week  from  that  time  Lola 
Georgiana  Montague  was  the  affianced  of  Alva  Martin. 
And  what  of  him  —  the  brilliant  statesman  ?  Passion  out 
stripped  all  other  sentiments.  He  lived  in  a  maze  of  infat 
uation — to  be  with  her,  to  listen  to  her  voice,  to  gaze  upon 
her  glorious  beauty.  Life  was  at  a  standstill  till  he  could 
possess  her,  till  he  could  call  her  his  by  all  the  rights  of 
wedlock !  It  was  nothing  to  him  that,  with  her  small  hands 
clasped .  over  his  arm,  she  had  confessed  her  association 
with  a  younger  lover ;  had  confessed  even  her  affection  for 
him !  That  was  nothing.  He  would  make  her  love  him. 
Such  passionate  and  vehement  idolatry  could  not  help  win 
ning  back  a  return.  And  Laird  saw  it  all  with  evil  eyes, 
thinking  the  while  how  he  could  be  revenged. 

Unexpected  as  the  wedding  was  to  Hagar,  it  was  equally 
so  to  the  neighboring  families.  Few  were  even  conversant 
with  the  name  or  station  of  the  bride.  One  thing,  how 
ever,  was  conceded  upon  all  sides,  —  that  the  aristocratic 
colonel  —  the  severe  and  rigid  stickler  for  rank  and  con 
ventional  position— would  never  degrade  himself  by  taking 
a  low-born  bride  to  his  bosom.  Minnie,  the  gorgeous  cre- 
ole,  having  been  summoned  from  her  attendance  upon 
Hagar,  retained  a  cold,  silent,  almost  sullen  quietude  amid 


HAGAR     THE     MARTYR.  63 

the  bustle  about  her.  Questions  were  useless.  What  she 
knew  —  if,  indeed,  she  knew  any  thing  but  that  her  master 
was  upon  the  eve  of  marriage  —  she  resolutely  kept  to 
herself;  consequently,  the  most  inveterate  gossips  were 
obliged  to  restrain  their  curiosity  till  a  fitting  moment  for 
its  indulgence. 

While  the  hum  of  busy  labor  went  on  in  the  lower 
department,  there  were  other  rooms  of  the  mansion  con 
cealing  passions  and  emotions  not  often  guests  at  a  wedding 
banquet. 

Mr.  Laird,  Hagar's  visitor,  had  said  truly  that  the  bride  of 
Colonel  Martin  was  the  most  beautiful  woman  in  the  world. 

Dare  we  intrude  upon  her  presence,  as  she  sits  gazing 
from  the  window,  with  eyes  fixed  "  too  intently  for  seeing," 
upon  the  vast  domain  so  soon  to  call  her  mistress  ?  The 
tufted  bloom  of  gorgeous  carpeting  will  give  back  no  echo 
to  our  tread ;  for  all  that  taste  could  devise  or  wealth  pro 
cure  has  been  gathered  to  that  home  into  whose  precincts 
had  come  an  unwilling  bride. 

I  have  heard  it  said  that  "  beauty  unadorned  is  adorned 
the  most;"  but  I  am  no  convert  to  the  theory,  although 
that  regal-looking  girl  sitting  in  the  depth  of  the  window, 
with  her  crimson  dressing  robe  hanging  loosely  from  her 
shoulders — with  her  long,  golden  curls  drooping  over  her 
neck  and  bosom  like  so  many  sunbeams  —  with  her  soft, 
white  feet  peeping  naked  from  beneath  an  embroidered 
cloud — with  her  transparent  bust  heaving  up  into  the  light 
like  drifts  of  snow,  —  I  say,  with  this  lovely,  unadorned 


64  HAG  A  II     THE     MART  YE. 

vision  before  me,  I  cannot  help  but  yield  my  vote  to  the 
poetic  and  popular  fallacy,  clapping  the  hands  of  my  admi 
ration  in  token  of  approval. 

O,  beautiful!  most  beautiful!  That  sorrow  should  ever 
shade  aught  so  exquisite,  or  despair  dwell  within  the  shadow 
of  its  charms  !  And  yet  she,  so  listless  now,  but  one  month 
ago  rejoiced  in  that  exceeding  beauty  which  never  failed 
to  win  her  admiration;  gloried  in  that  woman's  wealth  — 
her  own  preeminent  charms  —  which  to  the  charms  of 
those  about  her  were  as  diamonds  in  a  cluster  of  paste. 
Now  so  listless,  so  enervated.'  "What  could  have  wrought 
the  change? 

The  more  you  gaze  upon  her  the  more  visibly  you  mark 
the  gloom  which  shades  those  classic  features  —  a  gloom 
ever  and  anon  varied  by  a  passing  contraction  of  the  brow, 
and  a  sigh  which  seems  to  be  more  the  effect,  of  habit  than 
of  present  pain. 

"  It  is  your  wedding  day !  "  murmured  a  soft  voice  in  her 
ear,  the  tones  of  which  startled  her  from  her  dream.  She 
did  not  look  up  after  the  first  quick  start,  seeming  conscious 
of  the  import  of  the  words  quite  as  mechanically.  Minnie 
parted  the  soft,  bright  hair,  winding  each  curl  lazily  over 
her  finger,  and  drooping  it  down  in  radiant  waves  over  her 
marble  shoulders. 

"It  is  your  wedding  day,  lady,"  again  murmured  the 
tearful  voice. 

There  was  something"  in  the  tremulous  tones  that  caused 
the  bride  to  lift  her  eyes  from  their  vacant  resting-place. 


HAGAR     THE     MARTYR.  65 

"  What  should  a  wife  bring  her  husband  on  her  wedding 
day,  Minnie  ?  " 

"For  a  husband  like  yours,  honor,  love,  submission, 
idolatry ! "  And  the  slave's  tall  form  towered  in  her  en 
thusiasm. 

"  And  if  in  the  bride's  heart  there  was  no  place  for 
honor,  no  recognition  of  love,  no  belief  in  submission? 
What  if  idolatry  was  a  name  —  perhaps  a  shame  ?  —  what 
if  the  altar  of  affection  had  crumbled  under  its  weight,  and 
borne  down  the  heart's  best  garlands  ?  —  what  if  she  gave 
him  ashes  for  fire  —  withered  leaves  for  love  ?  —  what  if  all 
that  the  world  calls  true,  and  pure,  and  holy  had  been 
charred  out,  blackened,  smouldered,  and  only  rum  lay 
where  she  had  been  ?  " 

"  O  lady,  better  his  marriage  bed  should  be  a  shroud,  — 
better  the  grave  clasp  than  the  clasp  of  arms  wherein  no 
thrill  of  love  could  linger!  Your  eyes  are  wild  —  your 
bosom  throbs  —  there  is  a  hungry  ferocity  in  your  face  that 
I  tremble  to  look  at." 

"  No  more,  no  more  !  There  is  desolation  in  my  wed 
ding  day !  I  must  speak  to  some  one,  or  my  heart  will 
break.  Minnie,  do  you  know  what  it  is  to  love  —  not 
gently,  and  timidly,  and  submissively,  as  women  love,  but 
as  the  storm  loves  the  forest  it  levels  —  as  the  lightning 
loves  the  tree  it  blasts  —  as  the  ocean  loves  the  bark  it  in 
gulfs  ?  Can  you  imagine  such  a  love  ?  If  so,  what-think 
you  of  an  estrangement  —  of  death  without  an  unrelenting 
word  —  of  the  weary  days  and  years  that  must  follow  ?  — 
6* 


66  HA  GAB     THE     MABTYK. 

to  have  done  injustice  to  one  you  worship,  and  not  tell  him 
so  —  to  have  parted  with  him  coldly  and  angrily,  while 
your  heartstrings  were  cracking  with  misery  ?  There  are 
some  sorrows  lying  too  deep  for  words,  Minnie !  There  — 
there  ;  never  mind !  I  talk  at  random  sometimes,  Minnie. 
Why,  how  incredulous  you  look !  Come,  child,  come  ;  it  is 
my  wedding  day,  and,  as  I  live,  time  I  was  ready  for  my 
bridegroom.  "Why  do  you  look  at  me  so  reproachfully  ?  " 

Minnie  was  gazing  at  her  reproachfully  —  gazing  down 
into  that  gorgeous  face,  where  the  bloom  was  deepening  and 
coqueting  with  the  lily  of  her  complexion,  as  a  thousand 
pretty  waves  —  gazing  down  upon  the  rippling  curls  that 
quivered  upon  the  neck  and  shoulders,  and  rose  and  fell  as 
evenly  as  the  warm  bosom  beneath  them  —  gazing  into 
those  sunny  eyes  now  shorn  of  their  wildness,  and  won 
dering  what  the  mystery  was  that  had  elicited  "that  flood 
of  morbid  feeling,  hoping  that  it  was  only  a  freak  of  the 
young  bride  to  startle  her,  yet  fearing  there  might  be  an 
under  current  of  treachery  that  would  yet  endanger  her 
master's  peace  of  mind. 

"  Come,  come,  come !  I'm  getting  impatient.  I  don't 
like  to  be  studied  so  closely.  You  are  a  favorite  with  your 
master,  Minnie  —  so  he  tells  me." 

The  eloquent  blood  flushed  up  to  the  black  curls  of  the 
slave,  and  then  left  her  pale  and  calm  as  ever. 

"  I  nursed  his  child,"  she  said,  clasping  a  string  of  jewels 
around  the  head  of  the  bride. 

"  Not  them  !  "  she  said,  tearing  the  jewels  from  her  hair  ; 


HAGAR      THE      MAUTYR.  67 

"  I  could  not  wear  them  —  my  head  would  burst.  There  — 
hand  me  those  flowers  lying  in  the  vase  —  I  will  select 
one." 

"  They  are  withering." 

"  No  matter  —  let  me  have  them !  So  —  you  nursed  his 
child?" 

"  Yes,  lady." 

"  How  old  is  she  ?" 

"  Fourteen." 

"  Three  years  younger  than  her  mother !    It  is  laughable, 
isn't  it?" 
•   ",What?" 

"  That  your  master,  Alva  Martin,  —  the  dignified,  learned, 
sober  gentleman  of  the  old  school,  —  should  have  chosen 
such  a  harum-scarum,  half  girl,  half  woman  little  thing  as 
myself.  He  had  a  good  idea  of  courage,  too,  to  defy  the 
conventional  rules  of  society,  by  marrying  so  far  beneath 
him  in  worldly  matters.  I  suppose  I  am  ambitious  —  like 
display,  handsome  carriages,  handsome  horses,  fine  clothes, 
rich  jewels,  soft  odors,  refined  associations !  I  shall  have 
them  all  when  I  become  Mrs.  Martha ! " 

The  young  bride  sat  twining  and  untwining  a  long,  loose 
curl  over  her  taper  finger,  while  Minnie  went  to  the  ward 
robe  to  select  portions  of  the  bridal  paraphernalia, 

"  He  knows,"  she  went  on,  still  talking  to  herself,  "  he 
knows  I  do  not  bring  him  half  a  heart.  He  knows  that  it 
has  been  a  struggle  —  a  fierce,  bitter  warfare.  I  cannot 
love  him,  —  he  knows  it,  —  at  least,  as  I  have  loved  —  so 


68  HAGAR     THE     MAETTR. 

blindly  —  with  such  mad  infatuation.  "What  if  the  idol  is 
broken !  —  what  if  its  crumbled  ruin  lies  buried  amid  the 
desolation!  —  O,  he  should  beware  of  the  resurrection! 
Beware !  —  but  no  —  no  —  no !  What  right  have  I,  almost 
a  wedded  wife,  to  rake  up  the  ashes  of  this  poor,  wounded 
heart,  and  fan  the  stifled  embers  into  flame  ?  No ;  he  takes 
me  to  his  bosom  heart-wounded  and  cheerless !  I  should 
be  a  wretch  —  unjust,  unkind,  despicable-1- could  I  suffer 
one  pang  to  reach  the  noble  nature  that  has  endured  all, 
dared  all,  for  my  sake.  It  is  over  now.  The  last  thought  — 
the  last  wish !  I  have  uncovered  his  image  for  the  last 
time ;  and  now  that  it  is  past,  I  shall  be  happy  —  very,  very 
happy  —  ten  thousand  times  happier  than  I  could  —  have  — 
been  —  with  —  0,  my  heart  witt  break ! " 

And  with  a  low,  passionate  wail  she  sank  upon  her  knees 
at  the  window  in  utter  abandonment  of  woe.  Minnie,  who 
had  been  a  surprised  witness  of  the  scene,  sprang  quickly 
to  her  side,  and  would  have  raised  her. 

"  Not  yet,  Minnie,  not  now.  I  shall  be  better  by  and  by. 
Let  me  weep." 

"This  must  not  go  on.  Excuse  me,  lady;  but  there 
must  be  some  way  to  avoid  this  marriage." 

u  O  Minnie,  there  are  times  when  the  heart  must  claim 
sympathy !  I  must  speak,  or  go  mad !  Your  master  knows 
it  all,  —  how  I  grew  from  childhood  with  one  to  whom  my 
whole  heart  was  given,  —  how  we  were  betrothed,  and  the 
wedding  day  appointed,  —  how  there  came  a  misunder 
standing  between  us.  He  left  me  with  the  cloud  still  upper- 


HAGAR     THE     MARTYR.  69 

most ;  and  the  following  week,  in  a  rambling  excursion 
among  the  mountains,  he  fell  in  with  a  party  of  Indians, 
and  lost  his  life  in  the  struggle.  You  know  how  malicious 
the  Indians  on  our  borders  are  said  to  be.  Of  late  there 
has  a  new  feud  arisen,  and  this  has  been  the  result.  O 
Minnie,  it  was  all  my  fault !  I  accused  him  of  an  infidelity 
which  I  was  led  to  believe.  I  said  things  which  no  pure- 
minded  maiden  ought  to  have  imagined,  much  less  have 
given  expression  to.  He  was  sensitive  in  the  extreme  — 
denied  the  implication,  and  left  me.  But  there  —  I'm  calm 
noiv  !  See  who  that  is  just  entering  the  gate." 

"  O  Ilagar  !  —  my  Hagar  !  —  my  foster  child-lady  !  " 
And  before  she  could  be  detained  for  further  questioning, 
she  was  down  over  the  steps  and  out  by  Hagar's  side. 

"  Your  woman  is  very  devoted  to  you,  Miss  Martin,"  said 
Laird. 

"  O,  yes ;  she  nursed  me,  and,  in  fact,  has  had  the  entire 
charge  of  me." 

"Ah!" 

Hagar,  engaged  in  questioning  Minnie,  did  not  see  the 
strange,  glittering  eye  that  rested  upon  her,  nor  hear  that 
singular  exclamation. 

"  It  is  a  sad  affair,"  whispered  Minnie  ;  "  but  I  fear  there 
is  no  help  for  it.  Already  the  few  persons  invited  to  the 
wedding  are  assembled." 

Hagar,  without  further  ceremony,  went  straight  to  the 
room  of  the  bride,  and  gave  her  own  introduction.  It 
was  scarce  completed,  when  a  knock  was  heard  at  the  door, 


70  HAGAR     THE     MARTYR. 

and  Mr.  Martin,  clad  in  bridal  costume,  entered  the 
room. 

"Welcome,  Hagar,  welcome.  Your  new  mother,  Ha- 
gar,  —  about  your  own  age ;  you  will  get  along  swimmingly 
together.  Courage,  Georgiana,"  he  said,  lifting  the  small 
hand  to  his  mouth.  Then  giving  his  hand  to  Hagar,  he  led 
her  from  the  room. 

"  No  confessions,"  he  murmured,  as  he  parted  with  his 
daughter  at  her  chamber  door. 

It  was  evening  —  clear,  still,  and  beautiful !  The  flowers 
had  folded  up  their  soft  blooms  ;  the  streams  lay  glittering 
in  their  pebbled  bed ;  birds,  with  folded  wings,  were  twit 
tering  their  last  good-night ;  and  the  whole  wide  earth 
seemed  lapped  in  repose. 

Stately  and  beautiful  as  a  marble  statue,  Alva  Martin 
and  his  child-bride  stood  hand  in  hand  before  the  holy  min 
ister.  Except  in  years,  a  more  fitting  couple  it  would  be 
ha!rd  to  find.  Out  upon  the  lawn  dozens  of  negroes  hover 
together  in  groups,  with  a  sad  solemnity  on  their  faces,  as 
if  there  was  some  ceremony  in  progress  that  would  materi 
ally  interfere  with  their  comfort.  The  old  mansion  has  a 
still,  slumberous  air  about  it,  as  its  gables  rise  in  the  moon 
light  ;  and  the  soft,  green  lawn,  sloping  down  to  the  river's 
edge,  lies  white  and  silent  in  the  rich  light.  Already  the 
monotonous  sound  of  the  clergyman's  voice  reaches  the 
wondering  groups  upon  the  lawn.  A  pale,  sad  face  presses 
heavily  against  the  open  window,  and  although  there  are  no 
sobs,  tear  after  tear  quivers  upon  the  brown  hands,  showing 


HAGAR     THE     MARTYR.  71 

that  the  eyes  have  been  busy  during  the  ceremory.  Poor 
Minnie  !  Doubly  a  slave  ! 

The  last  word  lingers  upon  the  lips  of  the  clergyman, 
the  irrevocable  words  have  been  spoken,  when  the  sound 
of  heavy  hoofs  of  horses  tramping  in  the  distance  breaks 
in  upon  the  listening  groups.  Nearer  and  nearer  they  come ; 
and  now  the  bridle  is  flung  to  an  astonished  negro,  and  a 
tall,  supple  form  strides  into  the  mansion. 

"  It  is  not  over,  Georgia,  it  is  not  over !  Say  it  is  not 
too  late ! " 

A  quick,  sudden  start  —  a  wild,  shrill  scream,  and  the 
young  wife  lies  like  one  dead  upon  the  bosom  of  her  hus 
band. 

Quicker  than  thought  the  lights  are  extinguished,  and  the 
bride  seized  from  her  husband's  arms.  Strangers  mingle  in 
the  melee  ;  and  amid  shrieks,  and  oaths,  and  general  conster 
nation  is  heard  the  clattering  of  retreating  horses. 

Down  by  the  river's  side  is  a  mortal  combat !  "  Aha  ! 
It  was  your  triumph  !  It  is  mine  now  !  Aha  !  ha  !  ha ! 
So  perish  all  the  enemies  of  Michael  Laird,  the  outlaw ! " 
And  with  superhuman  strength  the  form  of  the  new  comer 
was  raised  from  the  ground  and  hurled  into  the  river. 


CHAPTER    VI. 

THE  OLD  MAN'S  DARLING. —  WOMAN'S  WILL.  —  THE  BAFFLED 
LOVER. 

• 
WILL  OYTD  ALE  !  with  its  antiquity,  its  quietude,  and  its 

gorgeousness ;  with  its  great  hills,  its  drooping  willows,  its 
solemn  dales.  Willowdale  !  The  very  name  ripples  lov 
ingly  from  the  pen ;  and  I  love  the  stern  stillness  of  its 
surroundings,  for  the  rich  haze  of  memory  lingering  amid 
its  shadows.  Willowdale!  Never  a  wanderer  overtaken 
by  misfortune  upon  the  road  but  some  friendly  instinct 
guided  him  to  the  moss-covered  mansion  of  old  Colonel 
Rose ;  never  a  tourist  guided  by  his  love  for  the  beautiful 
that  somehow  or  other  did  not,  in  the  course  of  his  pere 
grinations,  stumble  upon  the  massive  homestead  of  Willow- 
dale.  It  was  noted,  the  country  round,  for  the  generosity, 
the  urbanity,  and  the  good  breeding  of  the  popular  owner. 
Statesmen  met  there  to  discuss  the  doctrines  and  needs  of 
their  beloved  country ;  rampant  politicians  made  its  great 
hall  head  quarters  for  fiery  speeches,  inflammable  senti 
ments,  and  over-earnest  declamation.  Sportsmen  met  there 
to  talk  horse,  book  bets  for  perspective  races,  'and  exer 
cise  the  colonel's  splendid  stud  of  imported  animals,  with 
which  his  stables  were,  liberally  supplied.  The  colonel  was 

'    (72) 


HAGAB     THE      MARTYK.  73 

by  no  means  a  man  of  refinement.  Liberal,  generous, 
open-spirited,  and  even-tempered,  he  could  not  choose  but 
be  a  favorite ;  but  there  was  a  lack  of  polish  visible,  which 
sometimes  gave  a  loophole  for  the  scalping  knife  of  criti 
cism  among  the  sarcastic  of  his  political  antagonists,  when 
the  tide  of  electioneering  ran  high  enough  to  lift  him  out 
of  his  racing  element  into  the  field  of  discussion.  Daniel 
Webster  the  statesman  and  Daniel  Webster  his  blood  horse 
were,  in  his  estimation,  the  two  noblest  creatures  that  ever 
existed ;  nor  could  any  reasoning  or  argument  convince 
him  that  mentioning  the  two  in  the  same  breath,  and  with 
the  same  spirit  of  eulogium,  was  in  the  least  insulting  to 
the  massive  mind  which  at  that  period  was  at  its  culminat 
ing  point  of  splendor.  The  statesman,  when  the  guest  of 
Colonel  Rose,  as  he  often  was,  never  failed  to  try  the  mettle 
of  his  namesake,  or  to  add  his  mite  to  the  praise  which  his 
master  considered  his  due.  In  fact,  Willowdale,  at  the 
time  of  which  I  write,  crowded  into  its  scope  all  the  facili 
ties  for  pleasure  or  amusement  that  had  ever  been  discov 
ered  by  the  liberal-hearted  colonel. 

Having  but  one  child  —  the  Effie  Rose  of  whom  mention 
has  before  been  made  —  it  is  not  to  be  wondered  at  that  in 
her  all  the  wildness,  the  recklessness,  the  inconsiderateness, 
and  the  eccentricity  of  the  colonel,  her  father,  had  been 
reproduced.  She  sat  a  horse  as  if  she  had  been  part  and 
parcel  of  the  same  flesh.  She  was  a  complete  calendar  of 
the  racing  events  of  the  entire  century ;  could  enumerate 
the  names  of  the  different  antagonists,  when  and  where 
7 


74  II  A  G  A  R     THE      MARTYR. 

they  had  trotted,  what  time  they  had  made,  who  foaled 
them,  and  from  what  stock  they  sprang.  Her  father  Me- 
lighted  in  her  knowledge  no  less  than  her  independence. 
She  was  his  pet,  his  joy,  his  one  thing  needful  in  her  ab- 
sence,  and  his  perfect  delight  when  at  home.  He  had  a 
neighbor,  residing  some  four  miles  away,  (that  was  the  sort 
of  neighborhood  of  those  days,)  whose  lands  joined  with 
his,  and  whose  only  son  seemed  in  his  eyes  made  expressly 
to  mate  his  only  daughter.  Had  Effie  been  left  to  her  free 
will,  she  would  inevitably  have  fallen  in  love  with  Charley 
Lee.  He  was  just  her  style  of  a  man;  nothing  effeminate 
or  namby-pambyish,  but  bold  as  a  hawk,  bright  as  a  new 
button,  and  spirited  as  the  pretty  little  Arabian  which  he 
rode  with  such  matchless  grace.  From  her  earliest  years 
he  had  been  the  companion  of  her  rides  and  drives.  They 
had  crossed  rivulets  and  clambered  mountains  together, 
until  old  Mother  Dreslen,  the  "Wild  Woman  of  the  Alle- 
ghanies,  as  she  was  called,  used  to  say  to  herself,  "  It  is 
easy  to  see  what  will  come  of  this  association." 

Unfortunately,  her  father,  in  one  of  his  communicative 
moods,  led  her  into  the  secret  that  she  was  destined  for 
Charley  Lee. 

"  There  will  be  no  such  property  in  the  two  kingdoms  as 
the  combined  farms,"  he  urged  ;  "  besides,  the  old  man  and 
myself  have  settled  it." 

That  was  enough  for  Effie.  She  was  to  be  made  a  bar 
ter  of,  sold,  traded  away !  and  to  Charley  Lee,  of  all  per 
sons  in  the  world !  What  would  Charley  think  of  it  ?  or 


II  AGAR     THE     MARTYR.  75 

of  her  to  allow  it?  No;  she  would  not  allow  it!  She 
wquld  never  consent  to  it !  She  didn't  care  two  pins  for 
Charley,  any  how ;  and  if  she  did,  she  wouldn't  be  sold  to 
him  on  those  terms — not  she!  The  spice  of  romance 
which  made  more  piquant  the  rich  flame  of  her  disposition 
was  likely  to  mar  all  the  preconceived  notions  and  plans  of 
her  father  for  future  aggrandizement  and  elevation. 

From  the  moment  she  became  aware  of  her  father's 
intention,  her  conduct  towards  Charley  Lee  changed  from 
gentle  dependence  to  uncurbed  freedom.  It  was  no  longer 
"  If  Charley  likes,"  or  "  Just  as  Charley  says,"  or  "  Ask 
Charley ; "  but  an  independence  of  manner  amounting 
nearly  to  indifference  supplied  her  former  submission.  Nay, 
more ;  if  demonstrative  tenderness  passed  for  any  thing, 
she  was  as  good  as  engaged  to  a  young  Virginian  merchant 
who  had  found  excuse  for  delay  among  the  wild  old  hills 
of  Carolina.  The  school  at  which  Effie  had  been  educated 
was  but  a  couple  of  hours'  ride  from  Willowdale ;  and  of 
course  her  Saturday  evenings  found  her  at  home,  listening 
to  the  croonings  of  some  bedridden  servant,  praising  the 
industry  of  the  young  colored  population,  and  dispensing 
her  good  words  and  her  kind  smiles  liberally  within  the 
precincts  of  her  romantic  plantation. 

Among  the  slaves  she  was  an  angel  of  light.  All  the 
honest,  faithful  feelings  of  their  nature  were  called  out  by 
the  invariable  kindness  of  their  "young  -missis."  They 
were  always  sure  of  her  ear  and  her  sympathy ;  and  woe 


76  HAGAR     THE     MARTYR. 

to  the  taskmaster  who  had  abused  his  authority !  From 
him  her  smiles  were  averted,  and  her  cheering  words  with 
held.  That  was  the  great  threat  and  the  great  punishment 
on  Willowdale  plantation,  and  one  which  kept  its  working 
people  in  greater  subjection  than  any  terror  of  corporeal 
punishment  could  have  done.  That  last,  be  it  said  with 
pride,  never  disgraced  the  beautiful  vicinity  of  Willowdale. 
Luckily  for  me,  my  experiences  of  slave  life  have  been 
among  the  humane  and  the  benevolent.  I  have  passed 
many  years  of  my  life  investigating,  as  far  as  practicable, 
the  peculiar  institutions  of  a  slave  country.  I  went  south 
with  all  my  northern  prejudices  warm  within  my  heart. 
The  first  sight  of  a  slave  was  to  me  a  sensation  of  itself 
alone  —  a  something  no  more  to  be  reproduced  in  descrip 
tion  than  to  be  the  second  time  experienced.  I  made  my 
home  for  years  on  a  plantation  where  slaves  were  part  of 
the  family ;  not  in  point  of  actual  association,  perhaps,  but 
as  far  as  needs,  desires,  and  humane  treatment  were  con 
cerned.  No  wonder,  then,  that  I  look  with  dislike  upon 
those  who,  by  a  vigorous  pen,  strive  to  waken  all  the  bad 
impulses  both  of  master  and  slave,  and  wedge  in  the  lifo 
already  in  bonds  of  servitude  by  stricter  vigilance  and  a 
greater  severity  of  discipline.  However,  it  is  not  here  that 
I  choose  to  discuss  the  right  and  wrong  of  slavery ;  not 
here,  where  the  point  of  my  story  hangs  upon  one  of  the 
evils  of  slave  life  —  where  its  denouement  will  expose  a 
flagrant  outrage  perpetrated  through  the  medium  of  the 


HAGAH     THE     MARTYR.  77 

laAvs  by  which  the  slave  becomes  human  property.  No ;  I 
will  leave  the  subject  to  those  whose  impulses  urge  them  to 
oppose  the  human  traffic,  which  to  me  is  the  only  horror  of 
slavery.  It  will  take  a  fresh  chapter  to  start  fairly  again 
with  our  pretty  Effie  Rose. 
7* 


CHAPTER    VII. 

THE  ROMANCE  OF  REALITY. 

THERE  were  to  be  grand  times  at  "Willowdale !  It  was 
race  week  !  We  lose  much  by  not  entering  into  the  spirit 
of  the  races  as  they  do  at  the  south.  To  them  race  week 
is  a  point  in  the  calendar  of  their  happiness.  They  antici 
pate  for  days  and  months  in  advance.  It  is  the  theme  of 
conversation  among  the  old  turfsmen,  and  a  matter  of 
intense  interest  in  circles  just  becoming  aware  of  its  impor 
tance.  The  course  is  one  grand,  gorgeous  masquerade ;  — 
the  lithe  and  beautiful  horses  —  the  hurry  and  excitement 
around  the  betting  stand  —  the  glittering  of  carriages  bear 
ing  in  their  freight  of  loveliness  —  the  jockeys,  in  their 
pretty  sporting  dress  of  crimson  and  white  —  and,  more 
than  all,  the  grand  stand,  where  the  chivalry,  the  wealth, 
and  the  fashion  of  the  whole  southern  country  congregate 
to  witness  the  trials  of  speed  between  the  well-trained  com 
petitors. 

It  was  the  evening  before  the  races  that  the  balconies, 
the  platforms,  the  lawn,  and,  in  fact,  every  observance  point 
of  Willowdale  was  crowded  with  gay  and  lively  people 
awaiting  the  arrival  of  Effie  and  her  train  from  the  school. 

(78) 


II  A  GAR     THE     MARTYR.  79 

Old  Colonel  Rose  glided  here  and  there  and  every  where 
among  his  guests,  looking  the  full-faced,  merry-eyed,  rosy 
gentleman  of  the  old  school  that  he  was,  and  making  a  lib 
eral  tender  of  hearty  courtesies,  cordial  words,  and  wel 
come  phrases. 

"  It  is  getting  late,"  he  said,  in  reply  to  some  question. 
"  It  is  well  that  I  ordered  dinner  an  hour  later  than  usual." 
The  words  were  scarcely  uttered  when  a  cavalcade  wound 
round  the  corner  of  the  wood,  and  came  galloping  up  the 
lawn  and  through  the  gate  to  the  mansion. 

It  is  well  it  was  a  mansion  in  the  fullest  sense  of  the 
word ;  for  what  with  the  crowd  already  in  waiting  and  the 
crowd  in  company  with  Erne,  accommodations  else  had 
been  any  thing  but  on  a  par  with  Carolinian  hospitality. 

The  host  forgot  his  dignity  in  a  father's  affection.  He 
ran  as  fast  as  gout  would  let  him,  and,  heedless  of  the 
remaining  parties  at  the  door,  he  held  Effie  encircled  in 
his  arms. 

"  My  pride !  my  joy ! "  he  exclaimed,  kissing  her  eyes, 
her  lips,  not  forgetting  her  nose !  "  My  blessing !  There ! 
away  with  you!  Run  up  stairs,  while  I  welcome  your 
friends.  You'll  find  a  host  awaiting  you." 

But  Effie  did  not  profit  by  his  release. 

"  I  have  a  particular  friend  to  whom  I  must  introduce 
/ou,  and  for  whom  I  must  ask  your  hospitality." 

"Of  course,  Effie;  any  of  your  friends,  you  know  — 
But,  I  say !  where's  Charley  ?  I  don't  see  Charley  any 
where.  You  haven't  left  Charley  to  come  by  himself  ?  " 


80  H  A  G  A  R     THE     MARTYR 

"  Am  I  Charley's  keeper  ? "  she  laughed,  blushing  and 
placing  her  arm  within  her  father's.  "  Charley  puts  on 
airs  of  late.  I  was  obliged  to  unseat  him,  take  him  down 
a  peg,  you  know.  Hush !  Mr.  Wells,  father  awaits  to 
welcome  you.  Mr.  Wells,  father  ;  father,  Mr.  Wells. 
There,  make  yourselves  acquainted.  I  hate  these  formal 
introductions." 

Colonel  Rose  extended  his  hand,  without  releasing  JEffie, 
however,  and  the  moment  courtesy  would  allow  him,  he 
drew  her  away  to  the  end  of  the  balcony,  for  the  purpose 
of  a  serious  talk,  as  he  said. 

"  I've  heard  something  of  this  before,  Effie.  But  I  say 
now,  you  can't  think  of  giving  up  Charley  Lee  for  him" 

"  Charley  Lee,  indeed  !  Mr.  Wells  loves  me  ten  times 
where  Charley  Lee  don't  love  me  at  all." 

"  Nonsense !  fiddle-de-dee !  love  !  What  do  you  call  love  ? 
You  never  saw  this  fellow  till  within  a  month.  Of  course, 
he  fell  in  love  with  you.  Every  man  between  twenty  and 
twenty-five  falls  in  love  with  every  new  face  that  comes 
along ;  but  how  long  will  it  last,  Effie  ?  that's  what  I  want 
you  to  think  of.  Here's  Charley,  —  handsome,  rich,  —  all 
the  girls  are  after  him.  There's  Miss  Angier ;  she  would 
go  on  her  bended  knees  to  get  him." 

"  She  had  better  take  him,  then.  Here  he  comes,  look 
ing  as  glum  as  a  Grand  Turk.  Let  me  cut " 

"  No,  you  don't.  Now,  you  just  treat  him  decently.  I 
command  it !  Well,  there,  don't  draw  up  in  that  manner ; 
I  mean,  desire  it" 


HAGAR     THE     MARTYR.  81 

i 

Charley  Lee  did,  indeed,  look  glum  as  he  came  slowly 
towards  the  mansion.  Erne  stood  with  one  hand  prisoned 
in  that  of  her  father,  and  with  the  other  decapitating  cer 
tain  rosebuds  that  clambered  over  the  palisades,  by  aid  of 
her  riding  whip.  A  comical,  saucy  smile  was  the  only 
greeting  she  accorded  her  quondam  lover. 

"  Erne  likes  you,  Charley,  for  all  her  stubbornness ;  in 
deed,  she  does." 

"  Do  I  ?  "  and  off  went  another  bud  from  the  clinging 
vine. 

"  I'm  obliged  to  her,"  was  his  frozen  reply 

"  Come,  now,  don't  you  be  huffed.  She  don't  care  two 
pins  for  this  Mr.  Wells,  nor  he  for  her,  for  the  matter 
of  that.  It  is  impossible ;  it  isn't  the  nature  of  things. 
Young  men  don't  know  their  own  minds  ten  minutes  at  a 
time " 

"  That's  what  I  tell  Charley " 

"  Shut  up,  will  you  ?  I  say  your  city  young  men  go 
crazy  after  every  pretty  girl  they  meet ;  to  say  nothing  of 
platonic  affection  for  pretty  wives.  They  are  as  the  vane 
of  our  weathercock  up  there,  and  not  half  so  reliable ; 
they  would  disappoint  romancers  if  they  wasn't.  Come, 
make  up  now,  before  you  go  in ;  and  don't  let  me  hear 
another  word  of  this  childishness.  Erne  is  always  telling 
how  much  she  thinks  of  you." 

"  Why,  father  !  Don't  you  believe  him  ;  don't  you  dare 
believe  him.  I  wouldn't  have  you  ;  no,  not  if  there  wasn't 
another  man,  or  boy,  in  the  world." 


OZ  HAGAB     THE     MARTYR. 

So  saying,  Effie  wrung  her  Land  from  her  father,  and 
rushed  into  the  house. 

"  Something  must  be  done,  Charley.  It  is  all  because  I 
let  out  about  the  property.  She's  romantic  as  a  toad,  and 
be  hanged  to  her.  I  don't  see  who  she  took  it  from  ;  not 
from  me,  that's  certain.  She  can't  bear  the  idea  of  being 
made  a  barter  of.  But  never  mind,  now.  Let's  go  in  and 
devise  some  means  to  put  a  spoke  in  this  Mr.  Wells's  wheel. 
Be  shan't  have  her,  that's  certain !  Why,  Effie  would  die 
in  reality.  She  couldn't  bear  it.  Come,  come,  cheer  up. 
I've  a  plan  in  my  head,  and  if  that  fails  it  will  be  time 
enough  then  to  give  her  up.  Come." 

What  a  week  it  was  for  the  gay,  the  brilliant,  the  gor 
geous  guests  of  Willowdale, —  that  race  week  of  183-. 
How  many  bets  were  lost  and  won,  with  a  zest  known  only 
to  such  as  enter  fully  into  the  excitements  of  sporting ! 
"  Going  to  the  races ! "  There  were  bright-eyed*  girls, 
with  their  attendant  cavaliers,  intent  upon  surprising  the 
dense  crowd  with  their  superior  horsemanship.  There  were 
the  sombre  old  gentlemen  of  a  past  age,  trying  to  warm 
their  stagnant  blood  by  sight  of  the  carnival,  so  inspir 
ing  in  its  details.  There  were  gay  parties  of  all  ages ; 
elderly  matrons,  chaperoning  their  rolicking  charges  ; 
foung  maidens,  bent  upon  conquest  and  triumph ;  girls, 
jantering  along  sedately  and  coyly  by  the  side  of  watchful 
papas  and  mammas  in  barouche  or  travelling  carriages,  and 
jirls  dashing  along  with  an  impetuous  grace  which  spurned 
all  control,  other  than  that  of  their  own,  over  the  mettled 


HAGAR     THE     MARTYR.  83 

charger  yielding  to  their  guidance !  Liberty  and  license 
were  the  order  of  the  day.  All  hearts  drank  in  the  excite 
ment  of  the  scene,  and,  for  once,  gave  rein  to  the  most  lib 
eral  enjoyment  and  hilarity.  If  the  scene  on  the  thronged 
thoroughfare  was  so  exciting,  what  word  would  convey  a 
sense  of  the  gorgeousness  of  the  course  and  its  surround 
ings  ?  The  stand,  filled  with  the  perfection  of  southern 
beauty,  looks  like  a  fairy  bower  amid  the  coarser  elements 
of  the  crowd.  Beautiful  dames,  who  would  elsewhere 
shrink  from  such  public  gaze,  here  receive  the  ovation 
which  beauty  always  wins  from  manliness  and  gallantry 
without  a  frown  of  resentment.  In  fact,  admiration  on 
these  occasions  is  too  freely  tempered  with  respect,  to  cause 
other  than  pleasure  at  its  bestowal.  From  the  grand  stand 
Effie  Rose  looks  gracefully  down  upon  the  crowd,  nodding 
to  this  one  and  smiling  at  that,  seemingly  unconscious  of 
the  presence  beneath  of  melancholy  Charley  Lee.  Ever 
and  anon  his  eyes  wander  to  the  "  observed  of  all  obser 
vers,"  and  then  plunge  into  the  crowd  with  a  stiletto  gleam 
quite  bravoish  in  its  expression.  Effie  Rose  is  chaperoned 
by  the  haughty  Mrs.  Thems,  a  lady  in  every  sense  of  the 
word,  even  to  that  of  having  once  had  her  day  of  beauty. 
Her  heavy  velvet  dress  gives  a  superb  haughtiness  to  the 
oval  face,  and  corresponds  well  with  the  marked  dignity  of 
her  manner.  She  does  not  condescend  even  to  enter  into 
the  general  excitement  wliich  characterizes  the  last  "  home 
stretch,"  but  sweeps  her  superb  eyes  over  the  flushed  crowd, 
as  if  astonished  that  any  thing  on  .earth  could  create  so 


84  HAGAR     THE     MARTYR. 

great  a  furore.  At  her  side  are  her  two  daughters,  one  a 
merry,  saucy  little  damsel  of  sixteen,  the  other  a  second 
edition  of  her  own  haughty  self.  Effie  blooms  under  her 
jaunty  little  riding  hat,  and  Charley  Lee  thinks  she  looks 
handsomer  than  ever  in  her  long  skirt.  Grace  is  in  her 
every  motion,  even  to  the  method  in  which  she  clasps  the 
folds  gathered  in  her  slender  little  hand.  She  bends  her 
laughing  eyes  upon  the  gloomy  lover,  and  is  upon  the 
point  of  motioning  him  to  her  side,  when  a  new  acquaint 
ance  claims  her  attention. 

"  Are  your  bets  all  taken,  Miss  Rose  ?  "  he  asks,  in  a 
bantering  mood. 

"  Every  dollar,"  was  her  retort.  "  Unless  papa  replen 
ishes  my  purse,  or  I  win  the  next  heat,  I  have  only  my 
heart  and  hand  to  stake.  I  have  been  particularly  un 
lucky  to-day.  My  favorite  has  balked  me  dreadfully." 

"  I'll  take  that  last  bet,  at  all  hazards." 

"  What,  my  hand  and  heart  ?  " 

«  Yes." 

"  And  what  do  you  offer  in  return  ?  " 

I 

"  My  Selim,  here  — .pure  Arabian  —  original  stock  — 
fleet  as  a  bird,  and  kind  as  he  is  fleet." 

"  I'll  book  it." 

"  On  the  next  heat,  or  the  termination  of  the  race  ?  " 

"  O,  the  heat,  by  all  means." 

u  Effie  ! "  exclaimed  Charley,  angrily.       » 

u  Here  they  come,"  "  Clear  the  track,"  "  Hurrah  for 
Gray  Eagle,"  "  A  hundred  on  Blaeskin,"  "  You've  lost," 


HAGAR      THE     MARTYR.  85 

were  exclamations  of  the  excited  crowd.  "  And  you've  lost, 
Miss  Rose,"  was  the  exultant  affirmation  of  the  victors  in 
their  antagonism. 

"  O  dear,"  she  laughed,  "  here's  my  hand  ;  how  will  you 
take  —  across  your  cheek  or  over  your  head,"  and  she  made 
a  movement  to  strike.  "  Please  leave  me  my  heart." 

"  No,  no.  I  shall  call  for  it  yet.  That's  not  fair.  I  was 
prepared  to  dismount  Selim  on  the  instant." 

Charley  gave  the  whole  party  the  benefit  of  a  scornful 
scowl,  and  struck  off  into  the  betting  stand.  Here  he 
encountered  Colonel  Rose,  and  taking  him  apart,  laid  his 
complaints  at  his  feet. 

"  It  is  of  no  use,  colonel ;  while  Effie  imagines  she  is 
sold  to  me  for  the  benefit  of  the  estates,  she  will  never 
consent  to  be  mine ;  and  with  all  her  tormenting,  I  do 
believe  she  likes  me." 

"  I'll  settle  that ;  call  at  the  house  this  evening.  Don't 
be  surprised  at  any  thing  which  occurs ;  only  play  your 
part  well,  and  if  she  loves  you,  I'll  guaranty  to  see  her 
Mrs.  Lee  in  a  week's  time." 

"  Impossible ! " 

"  Not  at  all.  Women  are  strange  animals.  There  is  no 
telling  what  they'll  do.  Tell  them  they  must,  and  they'll 
see  you  hanged  first.  Tell  them  they  shan't,  and  they  will 
break  their  necks  or  their  hearts  to  do  it.  I've  summered 
and  wintered  them,  and  that's  the  only  way  to  get  even 
with  them." 

The  sun  was  flinging  its  last  stream  of  golden  light  over 


86  II  A  G  A  K     T  H  E     MARTYR. 

hill  and  valley,  as  the  brilliant  cavalcade  took  up  its  long 
line  of  march  from  the  race  course.  If  going  to  the  races 
had  been  a  theme  of  grandeur  and  excitement,  returning 
from  the  races  was  still  more  picturesque.  There  were 
faces  elate  with  success,  and  faces  gloomy  with  defeat. 
Some  urged  their  tried  steeds  to  the  top  of  their  strength, 
while  others  slowly  traversed  the  crowded  streets.  There 
was  a  little  grumbling,  considerable  swearing,  and  a  confu 
sion  of  tongues  worthy  of  Babel.  However,  the  day  end 
ed  up  as  it  had  begun,  or  rather  with  a  contemplation  of 
past  happiness,  instead  of  anticipation  of  happiness  to  come, 
in  the  minds  of  those  who  had  been  active  participants  of 
the  pleasures  thereof. 


CHAPTER    VIII. 

THE   FEARFUL    SECRET.  —  THE    GREAT   WROXG. —  THE    PLOT 
OF    THE    DEMON    MAX.  —  HAGAR'S    DOOM. 

SLOWLY,  very  slowly,  the  homestead  of  Alva  Martin 
recovered  from  the  shock  attendant  upon  his  nuptial  even 
ing.  Hagar  felt  most  profoundly  the  need  of  that  dear 
maternal  bosom,  that,  in  her  precocious  childhood,  was  ever 
ready  with  words  of  gentle  wisdom  to  counsel  and  to  direct. 
How  empty  the  house  seemed,  and  lonely !  The  master, 
stricken  down  hy  the  sudden  bereavement,  sat  silent  and 
alone,  scarcely  deigning  to  come  forth  from  his  desolate 
chamber.  His  love  for  his  beautiful  bride  had  been  stormy, 
turbulent,  and  tempestuous.  He  did  not  ask  if  she  returned 
his  love  —  he  did  not  even  think  of  it.  She  was  weak,  vain, 
and  frivolous.  The  name  of  Martin  of  Le  Clerk  was  one  of 
the  oldest  and  most  responsible  on  the  Carolina  records." 
She  had  played  a  bold,  deep  game  to  accomplish  the  aim 
and  object  of  her  life  —  so  bold  and  deep  that  even  the  in 
fatuated  lover  was  fain  to  close  his  eyes  upon  what  else 
must  have  been  palpable  and  mortifying.  To  have  a  po 
sition  among  the  haughty  dames  of  southern  aristocracy, — 
to  wear  a  name  the  loftiest  of  all,  —  these  had  been  the 
gems  for  which  love,  peace,  and  affection  were  bartered. 

(37) 


88  HAGAR     THE     MARTYR. 

Nor  was  it  possible  that,  upon  the  eve  of  consummating  her 
ambitious  projects,  she  could  have  forsworn  them  all  to 
elope  with  her  returned  lover.  That  she  had  been  forcibly 
borne  away  during  the  confused  scenes  of  the  evening  no 
one  could  doubt ;  and  as  the  lover  had  also  disappeared,  it 
was  easy  for  suspicion  to  point  the  way  of  her  escape. 
Martin,  in  his  sane  intervals,  raved  and  threatened  all  man 
ner  of  punishments  upon  him  who  had  thus  deprived  him 
of  his  beautiful  bride ;  while  Hagar,  with  forethought  be 
yond  her  years,  soothed  and  caressed  him,  and  by  her  own 
placid  demeanor  endeavored  to  withdraw  his  mind  from  the 
one  subject  which  threatened  his  reason.  With  consterna 
tion  she  saw  the  influence  that  Laird  —  the  dark,  stern 
companion  of  her  journey  home  —  was  acquiring  over  the 
shattered  mind  of  her  father.  There  was  something  so 
sinister,  so  designing  in  his  meek,  smooth  assumption  of 
manner,  that  the  young  girl  shrank  from  his  approach  with 
the  undefinable  feeling  of  dread  which  characterized  her 
first  approach  to  him.  More  than  once  had  she  detected 
his  dark,  lowering  brow  growing  darker  beneath  her  father's 
threats  against  the  abductor  of  his  wife,  while  at  such  tunes 
his  surveillance  of  herself  was  so  intense,  so  searching,  that 
the  flush  of  anger  would  spread  upon  her  face  in  spite  of 
her  efforts  at  self-control.  To  make  matters  worse,  Charley 
Lee  had  become  almost  a  constant  visitor  at  the  Le  Clerk 
farm.  From  the  first  a  spirit  of  antagonism,  too  plain  to  be 
mistaken,  had  arisen  between  the  two  men,  which  oftentimes 
threatened  open  warfare.  It  was  a  painful  evening  to  all 


HAG  AH      THE      MARTYR.  69 

parties  —  the  one  on  which  Charley  Lee  first  broke  up  the 
monotony  of  the  dwelling.  It  occurred  after  a  warm  and 
impetuous  tender  of  his  heart  and  hand  to  Effie  Rose,  and 
of  her  decided  and  unconditional  refusal. 

"  I  want  &  friend"  he  said,  taking  both  of  Hagar's  hands 
within  his  own ;  "  I  want  a  sister ;  I  want  soft,  cooling 
hands,  like  yours,  to  keep  the  fever  from  my  brain,  that 
threatens  to  spring  there  because  a  madcap  girl — a  wild, 
silly,  will-o'-the-wisp  girl  —  refused  to  become  my  wife. 
Torment  her!  It  is  because  she  won't  have  me  that  I 
feel  as  if  I  couldn't  live  without  her.  What  ought  I  to 
do?" 

"  Do  !  "    And  Hagar  laughed  a  low,  contemptuous  laugh. 

"  There  —  don't  treat  the  subject  in  that  way !  Of  course 
you  never  were  unhappy,  because  you  never  loved  ;  but  the 
time  will  come  —  it  comes  to  all,  sooner  or  later  —  when  life's 
calm  ocean  rises  into  a  storm  — -  when  all  that  is  so  quiet  now 
will  be  surges,  and  foam,  and  tumult,  and  you  will  either  be 
shocked  to  pieces  against  some  rocky  fate,  as  I  am  now,  or 
be  drifted  away  upon  its  surges  into  a  calm  and  quiet  exist 
ence." 

"  You  talk  like  a  boy,  Charley.  One  would  think  that 
the  most  distressing  of  calamities  had  befallen  you,  instead 
of  which  it  is  only  a  whim  of  your  lady  love  to  try  your 
affection.  However,  I  will  do  the  best  I  can  for  you  —  I'll 
see  Effie  myself.  "We  are  rather  unsettled  here  at  present. 
Father,  as  you  must  have  heard,  has  never  quite  recovered 
the  shock  of  a  few  weeks  ago." 
8* 


90  HAGAB     THE     MABTYE. 

"And  what  does  he  keep  that  ferocious  looking  Laird 
about  him  for  ?  There  is  something  wrong  there,  Hagar. 
He  was  the  constant  companion  of  that  girl  whom  your 
father  narrowly  escaped  marrying " 

"  He  didn't  escape,  Charley.  If  ever  she  should  return, 
she  is  as  firmly  his  wife  as  the  laws  of  the  state  can  make 
her.  I  sometimes  half  suspect " 

"What,  Hagar?" 

u  Nothing  —  nothing.     I  was  thinking  aloud " 

"  A  very  bad  habit,  Miss  Martin,  if  you'll  allow  me  to 
say  so,"  broke  in  the  voice  of  Laird. 

Hagar  and  Charley  both  sprang  to  their  feet ;  but  there 
was  such  an  imperturbable  gravity  upon  the  intruder's 
face  —  such  an  unconsciousness  of  having  given  offence, 
or  committed  an  impropriety  —  that  neither  of  them  could 
rebuke  the  intrusion. 

After  a  few  moments'  commonplace  talk,  Lee  called  for 
his  horse,  and  bowed  himself  out. 

"A  pleasant  fellow  enough,  Miss  Martin,"  said  Laird; 
"  a  trifle  impressible  and  fickle ;  but  the  rough  angles  of  the 
world  will  polish  that  in  tune." 

Hagar  deigned  no  reply,  but  began  reading  a  book  which 
she  had  dropped  upon  the  entrance  of  Charley. 

"  "Why  do  you  prefer  this  room  to  the  parlor,  Hagar  ?  — 
it  is  very  cheerless." 

"  To  be  alone  !  "  she  replied,  not  raising  her  eyes. 

Laird  stood  gazing  at  the  girl  from  the  position  he  had 
taken,  while  over  his  face  ran,  by  turns,  all  the  good  and 
evil  passions  of  his  nature. 


HAGAR     THE     MARTYR.  91 

"  What  a  singular,  provocative  little  vixen  you  are,  Ha- 
gar  !  and  what  a  time  I  shall  have  in  taming  you  when — 
we  —  are  married  ! " 

"Sir!" 

"  How  delicious  it  will  be  to  strike  out  sparks  of  fire  from 
that  heart  of  oak !  —  how  original  and  pleasant  to  watch  the 
taming  down  —  the  quivering  and  the  going  down  of  the 
candle  of  defiance  into  the  socket  of  subjection !  " 

"Sir!" 

"  What  a  spicy,  piquant  little  tiger-bird  it  is  ! " 

"  Then  mind  its  claws !  "  exclaimed  Hagar,  flinging  the 
book  violently  from  her  hand.  "  Married  to  you  !  I  have 
seen  the  time  when  there  was  a  fascination  in  the  dark, 
strange  men  that  get  into  the  world  by  chance  —  I  have 
even  dreamed  of  the  sensation  it  would  be  to  tame  one  —  to 
subdue  one  by  force  of  affection  —  to  remove  the  monster's 
claws,  and  play  with  it,  while  all  around  trembled  with  the 
expectation  of  seeing  me  torn  to  pieces  ;  but  you  —  you  — 
you  !  " 

Hagar  drew  a  contemptuous  breath,  as  if  nothing  could 
express  her  utter  detestation.  Hagar  was  a  girl  of  quick 
impulses  and  quick  resolves.  She  had  formed  her  estimate 
of  the  man  too  truly  not  to  crush  his  aspirations  as  a  suitor. 
No  circumstances  —  no  set  of  circumstances  —  could  induce 
her  ever  to  receive  him  in  that  light.  All  the  while  that 
she  continued  speaking  he  stood  before  her,  his  eyes  lighting 
up,  his  smile  —  that  fearful  smile,  of  which  I  have  before 
spoken  —  glittering  over  his  face,  giving  it  the  semblance 
of  a  handsome  fiend! 


92  HAGAB     THE     MART  YE. 

"  Good !  good  ! "  he  laughed ;  "  I  didn't  believe  you  had 
so  much  spirit !  Proud,  beautiful  vixen  that  you  are  — 
you  —  standing  there  the  picture  of  incarnate  scorn  —  you 
inspire  me  with  impatience  !  I  long  to  begin  my  task ;  and 
by  the  powers  it  promises  to  be  no  easy  one !  Come,  when 
shall  it  be  ?  Name  our  wedding  day." 

"  Sir,  you  insult  me  !  " 

"  Shall  it  be  a  month  —  a  week  hence  ?  A  week  is  a 
long  time  to  wait.  Say  to-morrow." 

"  Never  !  Don't  fear  but  my  father  shall  know  of  this 
insult." 

"  O,  tell  him,  by  all  means  !  Let  him  order  me  from  "his 
door  —  let  him  bid  his  servants  spurn  me  from  his  thresh 
old  —  let  the  lightning  of  his  eye  and  the  thunder  of  his 
tongue  beat  upon  me  as  yours  do  now  —  still  I  tell  you  I 
am  your  destined  husband !  No  other  man  can  circle  that 
quivering  form  in  his  arms  ;  no  other  man  can  pillow  that 
proud  head  upon  his  bosom ;  no  other  man  can  call  you 
wife  !  Be  arrogant,  scornful,  defiant  if  you  will,  —  you" 
will  call  me  husband  yet ! " 

"  Leave  this  room,  or  by  the  God  above  us,  you  shall 
know  whom  you  insult  with  such  impunity  ! " 

The  fire  which  had  been  glowing  and  darkling  in  Hagar's 
eyes  seemed  growing  into  flames.  Laird  folded  his  arms, 
and  gazed  mockingly  upon  her  white  face  and  quivering 
lips. 

"  J3<}jone ! "  she  thundered  again,  all  the  concentrated 
passion  of  her  nature  bursting  forth  in  an  incarnate  storm. 


II  A  GAR     THE      MARTYR.  93 

"  You  shall  obey  me  !  "  she  exclaimed,  starting  towards 
the  bell  rope  with  a  lofty  bearing.  Laird  caught  her  in  his 
arms,  and  held  her  fast. 

"  Delicious !  delicious  !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  What  a  mass 
of  coquettish  arrogance  it  is,  to  be  sure  !  Don't  struggle  ; 
you  won't  free  yourself.  I  hold  you  fast ;  fast  as  —  whew ! " 

Hagar,  in  the  insane  anger  of  the  moment,  had  wrenched 
her  hand,  and  dashed  it  with  all  her  strength  into  his  hand 
some,  smiling  face. 

"  Now  will  you  let  me  go  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  but  you  have  rung  your  knell !  I  might  have 
had  pity  —  compassion,  had  you  been  any  thing  but  the 
fierce,  relentless  thing  you  are." 

"  I  detest  your  sympathy ;  I  scorn  your  pity.  Release 
me,  I  say,  or  I  will  alarm  the  house,  and  have  you  sent  neck 
and  heels  out  of  the  window." 

"  But  first  you  must  hear  me.  You  think  your  father's 
bride  fled  with  her  lover." 

"  Yes,  of  course.     But  what  has  that  to  do  with  me  ?  " 

"  You  think  they  are  now  enjoying  each  other's  society 
somewhere,  do  you  not  ?  " 

"Yes;  but " 

"  Wrong,  altogether  wrong.  He  came  between  me  and 
my  love  ;  robbed  me  of  what  made  up  my  life  ;  he  sleeps 
at  the  bottom  of  the  river,  while  she  pleads  with  me  for 
mercy,  as  you  will  plead  yet  in  a  prison  of  my  own  design 
ing!" 

"  Monster !     O,  it  cannot  be." 


94  HAGAB     THE     MARTYR. 

"  Do  you  think  I  would  tell  you  my  secrets,  were  I  not 
sure  of  your  silence  ?  As  my  wife  it  will  ill  become  you  to 
betray  me." 

"  Your  wife !  Once  for  all,  let  this  mockery  cease.  Once 
for  all,  I  tell  you  that  the  grave  should  receive  me,  rather 
than  you,  even  were  you  not  the  guilty  thing  you  confess 
to  be." 

"  And  I  tell  you,  proud  girl,  as  you  stand  here  the  con 
centration  of  scorn,  that  one  word  of  mine  could  divest  you 
of  these  broad  lands,  this  princely  mansion,  these  symbols 
of  great  wealth.  I  tell  you  that  one  word  of  mine  would 
make  you  abhorred,  detested ;  a  thing  to  shrink  from,  to 
point  out  and  jeer ;  an  object  of  pity  and  compassion  to  the 
meanest  of  your  people." 

Hagar  had  released  herself  from  his  grasp,  and  was  now 
walking  rapidly  up  and  down  the  room.  Laird  was  deadly 
pale  with  passion. 

"  By  my  soul,"  he  exclaimed,  wiping  the  cold  perspira 
tion  from  his  brow,  "  had  I  not  sworn  to  be  revenged,  I 
could  find  it  in  my  heart  to  unmask  the  traitor  and  turn  it 
out  upon  the  world  in  its  true  colors ! " 

"  Silence.  I  have  heard  too  much.  I  insult  my  sta 
tion  by  listening  to  such  a  tirade  of  nonsense.  Let  me 
pass." 

"  Not  till  you  hear  me.  To-day  you  spurn  my  offer  of 
marriage  with  the  imperious  glance  of  an  empress  ;  to-mor 
row,  more  humbly  than  ever  criminal  sued  for  forfeited  life, 
will  you  beg  for  the  restoration  of  my  favor."" 


HAGAR     THE      MARTYR.  95 


«If  I  thought  so " 

"  If!     There  is  no  such  word  as  if!     You  will 


"  Don't  interrupt  me.  I  say,  if  I  thought  I  could  be  so 
lost  to  sense,  dignity,  shame  of  womanhood,  I  would  blacken 
my  face,  paler  than  my  betraying  heart,  and  set  myself  up 
for  sale  to  the  first  bidder,  as  a  slave  and  a  craven." 

Hagar  swept  her  eyes  up  over  her  companion's  face, 
where  they  were  transfixed  with  horror  at  the  sight  of  dia 
bolical,  malignant  passion  thereon  displayed. 

"  You  said  slave.  Ay,  that  is  the  word !  Lift  up  the 
drooping  fringes  of  those  proud  eyes,  and  see  there  the  rim 
of  opaque  blackness,  indigenous  alone  to  the  slave.  Ex 
amine  those  long,  taper  fingers,  whose  heaviest  task  as  yet 
has  been  to  toy  with  a  book  or  a  fan ;  or  press  back  the 
clasp  of  lovers'  palms,  and  mark  the  indentation  of  mingled 
color  which  circles  the  nails  ;  then  raise  that  mass  of  curly 
jet,  and  trace  there  the  short  crisp  wave  of  hair  that  sep 
arates  the  negro  from  the  white ;  then,  if  that  suffice  not, 
go  to  your  mirror,  girl.  Take  feature  after  feature  of  that 
superb  face.  Examine  them  individually  —  the  luscious 
lips,  the  high  cheek  bone,  the  broad,  low  forehead,  the  un 
shapely  nose  —  all  bright,  gorgeous,  and  fascinating  together, 
but. apart  and  distinct,  undeniably  African." 

Hagar  had  sunk  into  a  chair,  and  was  slowly,  mechan 
ically  examining  the  hair,  the  hands,  while  the  sparks  died 
out  of  her  eyes,  leaving  their  surroundings  more  percepti 
ble  than  ever.  She  might  have  been  a  statue,  so  still,  so 
silent,  so  aghast  did  she  appear. 


96  HAGAE     THE     MARTYR. 

"  Have  you  never  suspected  this  ? "  questioned  Laird, 
somewhat  touched  by  the  stony  nature  of  her  grief. 

She  raised  her  eyes  as  if  bewildered ;  she  gathered  up 
the  drooping  rings  of  her  black  hair. 

"And  I  was  so  proud  of  it,"  she  murmured.  "Tell -me 
all  —  all !  Or  why  have  you  told  me  at  all  ?  Suspect !  how 
should  I  have  suspected  ?  So  proud,  so  honored,  so  respect 
ed.  O,  to  be  a  child  of  shame  —  and  such  shame.  Now 
I  know  what  she  meant  in  dying.  A  slave  !  O,  ignominy ! 
O,  degradation  !  "Where,  where  shall  I  hide  my  head  ?  " 

And  sinking  down  among  the  cushions  of  the  sofa,  she  gave 
• 

vent  to  indescribable  moans  of  anguish. 

"  Your  husband,  that  will  be,  is  alone  conversant  with  the 
secret.  It  is  not  to  his  interest  to  betray  it." 

,"  No,  no,  no !  It  cannot  be.  I'll  not  believe  it.  You 
say  this  to  alarm  me.  You  say  this  because  I  am  dark,  and 
deformed,  and  desolate.  You  think  to  get  the  Le  Clerk  es 
tate  with  me.  Only  say  so !  Only  tell  me  it  is  the  estate 
you  want.  It  shall  be  yours,  but  not  encumbered  with  me. 
Only  say  you  will  be  content  with  the  estate  ; "  and  she  bent 
an  imploring  glance  upon  him  that  ought  to  have  moved  a 
fiend. 

"  Hagar,  we  have  gone  too  far  to  recede.  You  should 
not  have  defied  me  to  tell  you  secrets,  which  might  in  other 
hands  condemn  me.  No,  Hagar,  my  wife,  or  my  slave  !  It 
is  for  you  to  decide." 

"  I  cannot  endure  it !     O  unsay  those  horrible  words,  or 


HAGAE     THE     MARTYR.  97 

see  me  fall  at  your  feet  a  corpse.     Tell  me,  was  —  was  — 
Who  was  my  mother1?" 

"  Minnie  —  the  quadroon  slave  !  " 

With  a  face  whitened  with  anguish,  she  moaned  the  name 
of  Walter ;  then  rolled  from  the  sofa,  and  lay  still  and  mo 
tionless  as  if  she  was  indeed  dead. 

This  dead  calm  was  not  of  long  duration.  Left  to  her 
self,  she  soon  recovered  enough  to  comprehend  that  some 
terrible  calamity  had  befallen  her. 

"  My  father  —  he  will  tell  me  if  it  is  indeed  as  that  man 
says." 

Summoning  all  her  strength,  she  dragged  herself  to  her 
father's  door.  The  room  was  closed.  Upon  opening  it,  and 
creeping  in  to  where  her  father  sat  in  his  study  chair,  the 
very  blood  in  her  veins  seemed  turning  to  ice.  Erect  upon 
his  seat,  with  his  head  resting  upon  the  table,  her  last  hope, 
her  beloved  father,  sat  frigid  in  his  eternal  slumber. 

The  last  plank  to  which  she  had  clung  was  indeed  shiv 
ered.  The  chain  of  circumstances  was  gathering  about  her. 

Poor  Hagar  !     Hagar  the  Martyr  !  how  truly  had  your 
prediction  been  realized. 
9 


CHAPTER    IX. 

THE  DEFIANCE.  —  THE  RESOLVE.  —  THB  ESCAPE  OF  THE 
WHITE  SLAVE. 

IT  was  after  a  stormy  and  a  fearful  scene,  that  Hagar  sat 
gloomily  by  the  window  of  her  own  private  room.  Laird 
had  expressed  his  determination  either  to  make  her  his  wife, 
or  to  bring  matters  to  their  severest  issue,  and  had  given  her 
till  evening  to  make  up  her  mind.  The  last  glimpse  of  the 
sun  was  resting  upon  the  hill  tops,  and  the  shadows  were 
gathering  thick  and  heavily  under  the  hedgerows  of  the 
garden,  and  among  the  folds  of  drapery  around  the  window. 
"Was  there  no  hope  for  her  ?  Not  one.  Must  she  wed  with 
him  her  soul  abhorred,  or  become  that  doomed  and  degrad 
ed  thing  the  disclosure  of  her  birth  would  make  her.  The 
sins  of  the  father  were  indeed  descending  upon  the  head  of 
his  child ;  and  yet,  after  the  first  agony  of  thought,  there 
was  no  sentiment  of  reproach  in  her  heart  toward  the  au 
thor  of  her  being.  Had  she  been  poor,  degraded,  suffering, 
any  thing  but  a  slave,  she  would  have  arisen  in  the  power 
of  her  own  womanhood,  and  laid  bare  the  vileness,  the  gross- 
ness,  and  the  inhumanity  of  the  monster.  Her  will  was 
fettered  as  her  hands  must  be,  unless  she  consented  to  his 
desire.  In  the  midst  of  her  meditations,  two  men  were  seen 

(98) 


HAGAR      THE      MARTYR.  99 

to  turn  the  corner  by  the  lawn  gate,  and  approach  the 
house. 

u  So  soon"  she  exclaimed,  springing  to  her  feet,  while 
hei  face,  hands,  and  lips  were  frigid  as  ice. 

"They  have  come,"  whispered  Minnie,  whose  swollen 
eyes  showed  that  she  shared  the  misery  of  her  child-mis 
tress. 

"  I  will  be  with  them  presently,"  was  the  oalm  reply. 

Hagar  went  to  the  glass,  rolling  the  long  rings  of  hair 

% 

mechanically  over  her  fingers.  Bathing  her  eyes,  she  took 
a  small  vial  from  a  secret  drawer,  and  placed  it  in  the  folds 
of  her  dress. 

"  If  worst  comes  to  worst,  this  at  least  will  save  me,"  she 
muttered ;  and  with  another  long,  earnest  gaze  at  herself, 
she  turned  and  walked  steadily  to  the  parlor. 

Laird  was  standing  by  the  fireplace,  leaning  heavily  upon 
the  mantelpiece.  He  started  forward  at  her  entrance,  and 
led  her  into  the  centre  of  the  room. 

"  This  is  Mr.  Templeton,  clerk  of  the  probate,  Miss  Mar 
tin,"  he  said,  by  way  of  introduction.  "  He  comes  here 
with  a  license  to  make  us  one,  Hagar,  or  (he  hissed  in  her 
ear)  to  arrest  you  as  a  slave."  Hagar  recoiled,  as  if  a  ser 
pent  had  stung  her. 

"  By  Heaven,  no !  By  the  merciful  Father,  no,  no,  I 
will  not !  Don't  touch  me,"  said  she,  clutching  with  savage 
eagerness  a  cane,  which  she  knew  concealed  in  its  centre  a 
short,  thick  sword.  "  I'll  be  no  slave  —  no  wife  that's  worse 
than  slave !  There's  no  drop  of  slave  blood  in  my  veins  ! 


100  HA  GAB      THE      MARTYR. 

I  am  as  white  as  you  are,  as  free  as  you  are.  and  I  will  not 
be  enslaved.  There's  a  land  where  all  God's  flesh  is  free  ; 
where  groans,  and  tears,  and  bondage  are  unknown  ;  where 
man  is  man,  though  the  outward  covering  is  a  shade  of 
blackness  ;  where  worth  is  the  coin  that  passes  current  from 
grade  to  grade  of  society,  and  where  the  felon  who  perse 
cutes  a  helpless  woman  is  a  felon  still,  though  gold  should 
be  a  carpet  for  his  feet." 

Like  a  fierce  animal  at  bay  stood  Hagar ;  her  dark  and 
fiery  beauty  growing  more  dark  and  fiery  with  each  word, 
that  flung  off  like  sparks  from  her  outraged  heart. 

"  Chain  the  mountain  fawn,  cage  the  free  eagle,"  she  con 
tinued,  in  her  wrmh,  "  but  never  hope  to  subdue  Hagar 
Martin !  Jf  the  laws  do  not  protect  me,  God  will.  You 
dare  not  harm  me.  I  am  no  property  of  yours.  At  the 
very  worst,  it  would  take  time  to  prove  all  you  have  assert 
ed  ;  till  then,  I  defy  you,  I  scorn  you,  I  detest  you,  as  all 
good  men  and  women  will  detest  you  when  your  unrevealed 
crimes  shall  have  been  plucked  from  your  heart,  and  laid 
bare  before  the  astonished  eyes  of  a  world  that  has  hitherto 
held  you  in  some  show  of  respect.  Now,  do  your  worst ; 
it  is  power  against  power,  and  God  help  the  right ! " 

Proudly  and  firmly  Hagar  turned  to  leave  the  room. 
Neither  party  opposed  her,  knowing  for  the  present,  at  least, 
she  was  beyond  their  malice. 

"  What  is  to  be  done  now  ?  "  questioned  Mr.  Templeton 
of  his  crestfallen  client. 


HAGAR     THE     MARTYR.  10] 

"  Set  spies  about  the  house,  intercept  all  egress  from  the 
grounds,  and  proceed  at  once  to  investigate  her  birth." 

In  passing  through  the  hall,  Hagar's  quick  ear  caught  the 
words,  and  in  a  moment  her  resolution  was  formed. 

"  They  call  this  freedom  !  "  she  murmured.  "  Only  let 
me  escape  the  horrible  fate  awaiting  me  —  only  let  me  set 
foot  upon  untrammelled  ground,  and  to  thy  cause,  O  God, 
I  devote  my  remaining  life  ! " 

All  that  evening,  Hagar  and  Minnie  were  employed  in 
gathering  together  all  the  valuables  among  the  profusion  of 
gifts,  which,  from  time  to  time,  had  been  lavished  upon  her 
by  her  father.  There  were  some  hundreds  of  dollars  in  her 
possession  ;  and,  among  her  jewels,  collateral  security  enough 
to  raise,  in  case  of  emergency,  perhaps  a  thousand  more. 
All  these  were  carefully  culled,  and  placed  about  her  person 
in  a  way  to  secure  their  possession.  Then  dressing  herself 
in  her  coarsest  apparel,  and  ordering  Minnie  to  do  the  same, 
she  went  carefully  to  the  stable,  and  with  her  own  hands 
saddled  her  favorite  Selim.  Leaving  him  there,  she  re 
turned  for  Minnie,  and  in  another  hour  they  were  on  their 
journey  from  the  parental  home. 

But  under  the  moonlight  and  over  the  thick  sward,  dew- 
gemmed  and  fragrant,  stole  Hagar  and  her  slave-mother,  as 
noiselessly  as  their  steeds  could  move.  At  an  easy  pace, 
long  before  daylight,  they  could  reach  a  place  of  compara 
tive  safety ;  and. well  Hagar  knew  every  foot  of  ground  for 
miles  and  miles  away.  Her  love  for  reckless  roving,  for 
exploring  almost  impassable  ravines  in  the  mountain  inter- 
9* 


102  II  A  GAR     THE     MARTYR. 

slices,  now  stood  her  in  good  stead  ;  -while  the  faith,  which 
had  never  failed  her,  in  the  strong  arm  above  now  gave  a 
lighter  impulse  to  her  heart,  and  urged  her  to  believe  in  her 
final  escape  from  that  horrible  man. 

For  hours  and  hours  they  rode  in  silence ;  sometimes 
climbing  steep,  almost  perpendicular  hills,  at  other  times 
picking  their  way  down  over  immense  cliffs  that  every  mo 
ment  threatened  their  destruction.  At  another  tune  the 
terror  of  Minnie  would  have  been  too  great  to  attempt  so 
perilous  a  descent ;  but  in  the  distance,  liberty  beckoned  her 
on  —  liberty,  that  she  knew  only  by  hearing  others  descant 
upon  its  beauties ;  now,  a  little  more  strength,  a  little  more 
endurance,  and  she  would  know  of  her  own  experience  what 
it  meant. 

All  at  once  Hagar  roused  herself  from  the  deep  thought 
that  had  held  her  silent  during  their  journey.  Her  quick 
ear  had  caught  a  sound,  distant,  but  distinct ;  a  rumbling, 
trembling  sound,  as  of  horses'  feet  trampling  swiftly  the  deep 
distance.  Nearer  and  nearer  it  came,  till  there  could  be  no 
doubt  of  its  source. 

"Rouse  all  your  energies,  Minnie,  for  flight!  We  are 
pursued ! "  she  exclaimed,  tightening  the  girth  around  the 
saddle  for  the  better  expedition  of  the  race  she  saw  in  the 
perspective. 

"  My  Lord,  what  shall  we  do  ?  "  moaned  Minnie,  ready 
to  fall  to  the  ground  for  fear.  "  You  know  how  they  punish 
runaways.  O,  I  wish  I  had  never  started.  We  might  have 
known  they  would  have  caught  us." 


HAGAR     THE     MARTYR.  103 

"  Woman  !  Coward  !  If  the  worst  comes  to  the  worst, 
we  can  but  die  !  " 

"  O,  but  I  don't  want  to  die  !  Why  couldn't  you  have 
left  me  in  peace  ?  You  see  now  what  will  come  of  it.  O, 
I  wish  I  was  safely  at  home." 

"  Craven  !  "  hissed  Hagar,  clutching  at  the  drooping  rein 
of  Minnie's  horse.  "  Dismiss  your  fears,  and  try  to  save 
yourself  by  flight,  or  by  the  heaven  above  us,  I  will  lay 
your  coward  carcass  under  the  hill  yonder,  for  the  crows  to 
peck  at !  Come  ! " 

"  Stop,"  thundered  Laird,  his  voice  leaping  from  hill  to 
hill,  until  it  pierced  the  ear  of  Hagar. 

"  Never  ! "  shouted  Hagar  back  again.  "  Liberty  or 
death ! "  and  dashing  her  spur  into  the  side  of  Selim,  she 
flew  down  over  the  precipice,  with  Minnie  at  her  side.  It 
was  a  contest  of  strength  against  strength.  Hagar  rode  an 
Arabian,  fleet  as  a  deer.  Minnie  was  mounted  upon  a  blood 
horse,  quite  as  fleet,  but  more  powerful ;  while  Laird,  scarce 
ly  a  mile  behind  them,  rode  as  strong  and  enduring  an  ani 
mal,  who  could  make  up  in  bottom  what  she  lost  in  speed. 

The  defiance,  which  drifted  on  in  broken  echoes,  was  met 
with  a  mocking  laugh  by  Laird. 

"  Let  them  vaunt  their  security,"  he  said  to  himself.  "  It 
is  impossible  for  them  to  escape." 

On  and  on  they  flew,  the  pursuer  and  the  pursued  ;  now 
striking  the  sparks  out  from  the  massive  rocks,  now  fording 
some  shining  bit  of  water  —  anon  beating  down  over  the 
hills,  and  then  leaping  wildly  through  the  crackling  bushes. 


104  HA  GAB     THE     MARTYR. 

Selim  begins  to  pant  and  breathe  heavily,  while  the  per 
spiration  falls  from  his  sides  in  a  shower  of  light.  Hagar 
whispers  a  word  in  his  ear,  which  he  evidently  understands. 
He  sees  the  stalwart  horse  which  Minnie  rides,  closing  in 
with  him,  neck  and  neck,  and  pushes  on  more  rapidly  than 
ever.  They  cannot  even  hear  the  ground  rumbling  under 
the  feet  of  their  enemy,  and  so  content  themselves  with  hav 
ing  distanced  him  for  the  present. 

"  If  Selim  only  holds  out,"  murmurs  Hagar. 

If!  What  a  word  of  meaning  it  was  to  her  just  then  f 
Selim  begins  to  tremble  in  every  limb.  The  moisture  still 
streams  from  him,  and  his  eye  glares  with  painful  light. 

"  Poor  Selim !  Good  Selim  !  One  effort  more  !  "  mur 
murs  his  mistress,  patting  his  head,  as  she  leans  over  in  her 
race. 

In  vain.  The  horse  that  Minnie  rides  thunders  past  like 
some  white  monster ;  his  breast  heaving,  and  his  eye  flash 
ing  fire. 

One  more  effort,  and  the  beautiful  Arabian  closes  up  the 
gap,  and  passes  his  companion  at  supernatural  speed.  But 
it  doesn't  last.  Nature  is  exhausted.  He  falls  behind 
again,  and  hi  a  few  moments  more  is  far  in  the  rear.  It  is 
now  impossible  to  describe  the  horror  of  the  scene.  Far 
ahead,  Minnie  rides  like  some  midnight  fiend  bent  on  dia 
bolical  intent.  Far  behind,  the  ringing  oaths  of  Laird 
break  up  the  silence  that  lies  asleep  among  the  wooded 
hills.  The  Arabian  has  strained  every  nerve  to  save  his 
mistress  —  in  vain,  hi  vain  !  With  a  deep  groan,  almost 


HAGAB      THE      MARTYR.  105 

human  in  its  agony,  he  reels,  trembles,  and  falls  beneath 
his  load ! 

"  Ah,  ha  !  ha,  ha,  ha ! "  shouts  Laird,  as  he  comes  mock 
ingly  up,  and  stands  over  his  prostrate  game.  Hagar  does 
not  heed  or  hear  him.  She  is  kneeling  by  the  side  of  her 
beautiful  Selim,  holding  his  quivering  head  in  her  lap. 

"  To  die  for  me  — to  die  for  me !  "  she  murmurs.  "  Poor 
Selim.  Poor  beauty.  I  might  have  known  it  would  be 
useless  !  "  The  poor  animal  tried  to  rub  his  nose  against 
her  shoulder,  as  she  leaned  over  him.  It  had  been  his 
method  of  showing  his  regard,  but  even  in  that  he  failed 
from  weakness.  Turning  his  eyes  to  her  face,  he  gave 
her  a  look  of  mute  eloquence ;  lapped  the  hand  that  ca 
ressed  him,  and,  without  a  struggle,  lay  dead  at  her  feet. 

Poor  Selim! 

Minnie,  seeing  the  turn  that  matters  had  taken,  put  fresh 
speed  to  her  horse,  and,  in  her  terror,  paused  not  for  im 
pediment  of  mountain  or  of  stream.  But  she  was  too  little 
game  for  Laird  to  hunt,  under  existing  circumstances. 
Hagar  was  all  he  desired,  and  her  he  had  before  him. 

Casting  a  longing  look  at  her  dead  Arabian,  she  silently 
allowed  her  persecutor  to  place  her  before  him  upon  his 
horse.  Back  over  the  mountains,  and  through  the  valleys ; 
back  under  the  moonlight,  and  through  the  leafy  shadows. 
That  darkest  hour  just  before  day  found  them  still  tram 
pling  the  clover  blossoms  and  the  fresh  flowers  that  sprang 
in  rich  profusion  all  along  their  path.  Not  a  word  had 
been  spoken.  But  for  the  heavy  beating  of  her  heart, 


106  HA  GAB     THE     MARTYR. 

Laird  might  have  held  a  statue  in  his  arms.  He  was  be 
ginning  himself  to  indulge  in  a  superstitious  tremor.  He 
tried  to  shake  it  off,  by  thinking  how  fate  had  favored  him 
in  the  present  instance.  He  had  a  brilliant  future  before 
him.  Hagar  surely  would  consent  to  be  his  wife,  rather 
than  have  her  disgraceful  origin  exposed  ;  and  as  for  Min 
nie,  he  was  rather  glad  than  otherwise  that  she  had  escaped. 
He  knew  she  would  escape,  for  being  a  favorite  servant, 
she  was  always  provided  with  a  pass,  that  would  carry  her 
safely  to  any  part  of  the  slave  territory. 

As  Laird  neared  the  homestead  of  Hagar,  a  feeling  of 
superstitious  awe  took  possession  of  his  mind.  Her  own 
death-like  stillness,  the  deepening  of  the  night's  last  shad 
ows,  and  the  solemn  quietude  which  pervaded  nature  in  its 
rest,  all  told  upon  him  with  irresistible  force.  He  even  began 
to  meditate  upon  the  systematic  tyranny  with  which  he  had 
followed  up  the  strange  wooing  of  Hagar,  and  to  speculate 
upon  the  feasibility  of  yet  setting  her  free,  and  burying  in 
his  own  breast  the  knowledge  of  her  birth ;  but  when  his 
good  angel's  influence  was  uppermost,  the  tall  old  cupola 
of  the  Le  Clerk  mansion  came  in  view,  with  its  ambitious 
aspirations,  and  all  his  good  intentions  vanished  as  a 
dream. 

«  Hagar." 

No  answer. 

"  Hagar,  we  are  home  again." 

"Home!" 

"  It  remains  with  you  to  make  it  a  peaceful  or  a  stormy 


HAGAR      THE     MARTYR.  107 

one.  Escape  is  impossible,  and  your  next  attempt  will  not 
be  so  lightly  passed  over ;  believe  me." 

"  Walter  !  Walter  !  "  exclaimed  Hagar,  in  her  despair. 

"  Walter  !  0,  yes  ;  much  Walter  cares  for  you.  I  have 
heard  of  this  before.  But  Walter  has  forgotten  you  long 
enough  ago." 

"  False,  false  !     I'U  not  believe  it !  " 

"  You  will  believe  your  eyes,  I  suppose.  I  have  a  paper 
containing  the  positive  announcement  of  his  marriage  to 
the  daughter  of  his  employer." 

"  Impossible ! " 

"  You  shall  see  for  yourself." 

"  0,  impossible  !     He  could  not  be  so  base." 

"  What  do  men  think  of  their  boyish  vows  ?  Why,  just 
nothing  at  all.  So  make  up  your  mind  to  become  Mrs. 
Laird,  and  all  the  rest  will  come  with  time." 

Hagar  made  him  no  answer ;  but,  arriving  at  the  door, 
she  sprang  from  his  arms,  and  fled  up  the  long  stair 
way. 

"  Let  her  go  !  She  will  not  attempt  to  escape  again  at 
present,"  muttered  Laird,  as  he  led  his  horse  away  to  the 
stable. 

Hagar  flung  open  her  chamber  door  with  a  dash  of  her 
hand,  and  would  have  buried  her  head  in  the  bed,  but  that 
an  apparition,  so  pale,  so  pure,  and  yet  so  lifelike,  rose  up 
and  supported  her.  It  might  have  been  a  marble  statue, 
so  immovable  did  it  seem.  One  hand  was  held  close  to 
her  breast,  while  the  other  pushed  back  the  clustering  curls 


108  HAGAR     THE     MARTYR. 

which  showered  over  the  face  and  neck,  even  down  to  the 
fragile  waist,  which  seemed  scarcely  an  arm's  span. 

"  Who  are  you  ?  "  exclaimed  Hagar,  on  whom  the  events 
of  the  night  had  left  their  superstitious  impress. 

"  Don't  you  recognize  me,  Hagar  ?  Am  I,  indeed,  so 
changed  ?  " 

"  Georgiana,  mother  !  O,  how  glad  I  am  to  hear  a  human 
voice.  But  stay  ;  you  fled  with  a  lover.  You  insulted  my 
father's  memory.  You  are  no  fit  companion  for  a  true 
woman." 

"  Hagar,  it  is  false !  all  false  as  the  man's  heart  who 
planned  and  executed  to  suit  his  own  interest  !  Laird 
removed  me  while  I  lay  insensible,  or  rather  his  minions 
did.  He  lured  into,  what  he  supposed  to  be,  deadly  combat 
the  lover  of  whom  you  accuse  me.  Hark  !  I  hear  his  step 
in  the  lawn.  I  have  come  to  punish  him.  Listen.  Years 
ago  he  committed  an  act  which  won  for  him  the  deadly 
feud  of  the  old  woman  of  the  mountain.  Pretending  to 
forgive  him,  she  has  followed  him  up,  slowly  and  surely,  to 
her  revenge,  and  this  it  is.  She  was  present,  at  his  request, 
on  the  fatal  night  of  your  father's  wedding.  She  sent  the 
men  who  captured  me  to  her  hut  on  the  mountain,  but 
watched  him  as  he  dragged  his  victim  to  the  water's  edge. 
He  thinks  that  former  lover  of  mine  dead  by  his  own 
hand.  He  thinks  he  sleeps  his  last  sleep  under  the  water 
of  the  river  yonder.  But  this  old  woman,  with  a  faithful 
servant,  rescued  him,  and  had  him  also  carried  to  her  hut. 
It  is  only  now  that  he  is  able  to  confront  this  fiend,  and 


HAGAR     THE      MARTYR.  109 

i 

bring  him  to  judgment.  Our  preserver  kept  the  run  of  his 
movements ;  knew  of  his  absence  this  night,  and  had  us 
both  conveyed  here,  to  await  his  return.  He  is  below, 
waiting  the  proper  moment  to  appear  to  him.  Laird  is 
coming  ;  chance  and  the  right  protect  us  ! 

"  I  must  say  a  word  to  you,  Hagar,  before " 

"  How  came  you  here  ?  And  where  is  that  old  fiend, 
whom  I  had  for  your  security  ?  "  exclaimed  Laird,  as  he 
entered  the  room. 

"  Here  !  "  The  door  of  a  closet  suddenly  opened,  and  a 
weird-looking,  haggard  old  woman  stood  in  its  door.  "  Here 
is  the  old  fiend  you  called  for,  ready  to  answer  any  ques 
tions  you  may  ask,  and  to  ask  more,  perhaps,  than  you  can 
answer." 

"  Hag,  devil !  Do  you  think  your  word  would  be  taken 
against  mine  ?  Go  home,  and  learn  wisdom." 

"  Ah,  ha !  ha,  ha !  I  learned  my  wisdom  years  ago ; 
when  the  last  moans  of  my  heart-broken  child  —  broken  by 
you,  Michael  Laird  —  rang  in  my  ears  !  When  her  dying 
groans  called  on  me  for  vengeance  !  vengeance  against  her 
destroyer !  And  you  thought  a  mother  could  forgive  the 
destruction  of  all  on  earth  she  prized,  and  live  for  his  pleas 
ure,  as  you  thought  I  was  living  for  yours  !  O,  fool !  fool ! 
fool !  "  And  the  old  woman  swept  out  of  her  frame,  and 
up  and  down  the  room,  casting  upon  him  the  most  wither 
ing  glances. 

"  Go  home  —  home,  I  say  —  to  your  den  upon  the 
10 


110  HAGAB     THE     MARTYR. 

mountain,  or  I  will  have  you  dragged  there,  to  see  it  de 
stroyed  before  your  eyes  ! "  hissed  Laird,  between  his  white 
lips,  while  his  whole  frame  trembled  with  excitement  and 
terror. 

"  There  is  no  home  for  me  in  this  world.  You  took  care 
of  that,  years  ago.  O,  man,  man  !  "Where  is  your  con 
science,  that  you  can  look  down  the  track  of  years,  upon 
all  the  evil  you  have  committed,  and  upon  all  the  hearts 
you  have  broken  —  to  say  nothing  of  the  murders  of 
innocent  victims,  who  came  between  you  and  your  plans  !  " 

"  You'll  drive  me  mad  !     For  God's  sake,  leave  me  !  " 

"  You  drove  me  mad  years  ago  !  Why  should  I  spare 
you  ?  That  you  may  do  still  more  evil  ?  That  you  may 
kill  these  helpless  women,  inch  by  inch,  to  secure  their 
silence  ?  That  you  may  stifle  my  voice,  that  its  tones  may 
not  ring  in  the  halls  of  justice,  denouncing  you  as  a  mur 
derer  /" 

"  'Tis  false  !     I  am  no  murderer !  " 

"  Why,  then,  does  your  face  turn  to  ashy  paleness  ?  That 
is  not  the  look  of  innocence.  Or,  if  my  word  be  doubted, 
look  there  —  there  !  ha,  ha,  ha  !  there  !  " 

Laird  did  look,  and  with  one  loud  wail,  sank  trembling 
to  the  floor. 

"  Take  him  away  —  take  him  away  !  or  by  all  the  fiends 
you  shall  answer  for  it !  What  does  lie  here  ?  He  should 
be " 

"  In  the  river,  under  the  waves !     Dead  men  tell  no 


HAGAR     THE     MARTYR,  111 

tales,  but  the  waters  sometimes  give  up  their  dead.  Look 
at  him  ;  ha,  you  dare  not !  " 

"  He  is  convulsed,"  exclaimed  Hagar,  springing  to  the 
side  of  Laird.  She  attempted  to  raise  his  head,  but  over 
his  white  lips,  staining  his  neckcloth  and  vest,  a  little  pool 
of  blood  was  flowing. 

"  He'll  harm  no  more,"  muttered  the  old  woman,  stoop 
ing  over,  and  placing  her  hand  upon  his  heart. 

"  He'll  harm  you ! "  he  screamed,  making  a  violent 
effort  to  regain  his  feet.  It  was  useless. 

At  that  moment  his  eye  fell  upon  Hagar. 

"  Walter,"  he  muttered,  between  spasms  of  pain  ;  "  Wal 
ter,  ha,  ha  !  Here  —  here  is  the  paper  —  papers  don't  lie 
—  he's  married — and  if — ugh!  this  pain!  Can't  some 
of  you  help  me  ?  or  are  you  devils,  all  ?  Who  would  have 
thought  the  water  would  have  given  up  its  dead !  Out- 
generalled,  outgeneralled,"  he  went  on  in  broken  rav 
ings. 

"  Call  in  the  servants,  and  have  him  placed  in  a  bed," 
said  Mrs.  Martin,  ringing  a  small  hand  bell. 

"  Thank  you  —  ugh  !  —  you  are  not  the  worst  of  women, 
Georgie,  if  you  did  —  0,  what  pain  I  do  suffer  ! " 

Hagar  held  the  paper  in  blank  despair. 

"  Read  it  —  read  it.  You'll  find  what  I  say  is  truth  — 
Walter  —  your  —  Walter  —  is  married  —  to  —  the  —  O 
save  me,  Heaven." 

Laird  had  fainted  with  pain,  and  was  borne  insensible  to 


112  HAGAB     THE      MARTYR. 

a  chamber,  where  the  best  of  attendance  could  be  rendered. 
Hagar  had  no  thought,  no  care  for  him,  now.  He  might 
live  and  denounce  her,  or  die  and  bury  her  secret  with  him 
in  the  grave.  It  mattered  not  to  her ;  her  sun  had  gone 
down  into  a  night  of  hopeless  gloom. 


CHAPTER    X. 

THE  FATAL  STEP. 

"  Alas  !  O,  alas  for  the  trusting  heart, 

When  its  fairy  dream  is  o'er  ! 
Then  it  learns  that  to  trust  is  to  be  deceived ; 
Finds  the  things  most  false  that  it  most  believed. 

Alas  !  for  it  dreams  no  more !  " 

ALL  the  next  day,  and  for  days  afterwards,  Hagar  sat  in 
her  own  chamber  as  one  in  a  maze.  The  privilege  of 
thought,  much  less  that  of  deliberation,  seemed  wrested 
from  her  forever.  Her  youthful  mother-in-law  lost  no 
means  of  awakening  her  to  the  present,  but  to  no  avail. 
The  town  was  in  a  tumult  in  consequence  of  the  recent 
disclosures,  as  far  as  Laird  was  individually  concerned. 
Lawyers  were  deep  in  the  property  (debts  and  credits)  of 
the  deceased  Alva  Martin.  A  competence  and  something 
more  remained  to  his  wife  and  child ;  but  to  that  the  latter 
was  quite  indifferent.  No  one  could  fathom  her  thoughts 
or  imagine  her  intentions.  She  gave  no  answer  to  the 
various  questions  addressed  to  her;  and  when  "Walter's 
name  was  mentioned  as  being  in  a  manner  connected  with 
her  father's  will,  she  only  drooped  her  head  the  lower,  as 
if  that  name  was  the  last  feather  to  the  load  of  her  misery. 
10*  ("3) 


114  UAGAB      THE      MAHTYR. 

So  things  progressed,  till  one  morning  the  family  found  her 
room  vacant.  No  letter  was  left  —  no  line  by  which  they 
could  learn  her  destiny.  Scouts  were  sent  out,  here, 
there,  and  every  where;  but  no  trace  of  even  the  most 
remote  nature  could  be  obtained.  A  girl  answering  her 
description  was  seen  in  the  streets  of  Charleston,  and  it 
was  thought  she  took  passage  from  thence  in  a  vessel  bound 
to  Boston.  Only  the  commonest  material  of  clothing  Avas 
missing  from  her  wardrobe ;  but  all  her  valuable  bijouterie 
had  disappeared,  proving  that  flight,  and  not  suicide,  was 
the  means  of  her  escape.  The  subject  in  time  became  a 
nine  days'  wonder,  and  then  dropped,  till  the  name  of 
Hagar  Martin  was  almost  forgotten. 

But  of  the  martyr  girl !  What  of  her  ?  Far  away  in  a 
land  of  strangers  she  had  wandered,  companionless  and 
alone,  determined  to  know  the  truth  regarding  her  boy 
lover.  Far  away  and  alone !  What  was  it  to  her  that  the 
world  looked  coldly  on  while  her  heart  was  breaking  ?  She 
would  know,  she  would  see  with  her  own  eyes,  she  would 
be  convinced ;  and  if,  as  Laird  had  said,  Walter  had  for 
gotten  her,  why  then  farewell  hope,  happiness,  every  thing 
in  this  world!  It  was  an  easy  matter  to  ascertain  the 
locality  of  Walter.  The  address  of  his  employer  was  as 
familiar  to  her  as  her  own  name.  Enough  that  after  weeks 
of  anxiety  amounting  almost  to  frenzy,  she  ascertained 
beyond  a  doubt  that  he  who  had  won  her  young  heart  had 
won  it  only  to  forget  her.  His  marriage  is  announced  with 
the  daughter  of  his  rich  patron!  All  after  that  is  pain, 


HAGAR     THE     MARTYR.  115 

sorrow,  bewilderment.  What  is  the  world  to  her?  What 
has  she  to  live  for  ?  Who  cares  whether  she  lives  or  dies 
in  the  agony  of  her  despair  ?  One.  Yes ;  unfortunately 
for  her,  there  is  one  who  feels  her  anguish  as  if  it  was  his 
own. 

One!  Hagar!  girl!  rouse  yourself  from  the  apathy  of 
your  despair !  Your  foot  is  on  the  precipice  !  One  step 
more,  and  you  are  lost  to  all  eternity !  Father  of  mercy, 
gather  your  arms  about  her !  Angels,  protect  her,  for  she 
knows  not  what  she  does !  Too  late !  too  late !  Alas  ! 
One,  and  that  a  figure  of  dazzling  brightness,  who  bends 
above  her,  clasping  her  thin  hands,  and  pleading,  in  a  soft, 
sweet  murmur,  "The  only  thing  that  loves  you  on  the 
earth."  Such  love !  the  love  of  the  serpent  for  the  dove ! 
She  does  not  quite  realize  the  purport  of  his  words. 

"  Let  him  see  that  you  can  live  without  him."  Him ! 
He  has  triumphed  by  his  sophistry  —  that  brilliant  man  of 
the  world !  He  might  have  talked  "  love  "  to  all  eternity, 
and  only  the  murmur  of  his  voice  would  reach  her  ear; 
but  her  pride  !  that  was  the  vulnerable  part  of  her  nature ; 
that  the  unprotected  fort  to  which  he  brought  all  the  force 
of  his  bewildering  battery. 

He  triumphed!  Hagar  has  become  the  martyr  of  love, 
the  wreck  of  womanhood,  the  outcast,  the  worse  than  slave ! 
She  does  not  comprehend  it  yet;  she  neither  hopes  nor 
fears.  There  is  one  to  meet  her  with  kindness,  and  him 
she  tries  to  love.  Impossible !  O,  how  impossible !  Thoughts 
will  come  of  her  infant  home,  of  her  boy  lover,  of  her  days 


116  HAG  A  11      T  I!  !i      :i  ART  Til. 

of  innocence ;  but  nothing  positive,  nothing  to  make  her 
grieve,  or  to  convince  her  of  the  false  step  she  has  so  reck 
lessly  taken. 

And  now  the  months  have  crept  almost  into  a  year ; 
how,  Hagar  scarcely  knows.  She  has  been  insane  —  a 
quiet,  harmless  insanity,  but  still  insane.  Ever  beside  her 
is  the  handsome,  dazzling  figure  which  tempted  her  to  des 
peration.  Ever  around  her  rustling  silks,  and  flushed 
cheeks,  and  eyes  trained  to  captivate  and  to  insnare.  She 
is  too  simple,  too  innocent  to  know  the  meaning  of  this  dis 
play,  but  something  tells  her  all  is  not  right.  From  its 
little  crib  a  tiny  face  looks  out  from  endless  folds  of  lace, 
and  puts  up  its  pouting  lip  for  a  mother's  kiss  ! 

A  mother's  kiss  ! 

u  Tell  me  what  it  is,  and  why  I  am  here,"  she  questioned 
the  woman  who  seemed  to  be  at  the  head  of  the  house. 

"  I  will  tell  you,  poor,  young,  innocent  mother.  This  is 
no  place  for  the  like  of  you.  Go  —  go — no  matter  where  ; 
any  where  from  here." 

"  But  why  do  you  stay  here  ? "  was  the  shy,  childish 
question. 

"0,  I  —  I  am  used  to  it.  It  is  nothing  to  me."  The 
dark,  penetrating  eyes  of  the  woman  flashed  wildly  for  a 
moment,  and  she  leaned  her  head  on  her  hand  in  silent 
thought. 

"  Is  your  mother  dead,  too  ?  and  did  the  one  you  loved 
desert  you  ?  "  pleaded  Hagar. 

"  Child !  child !  you  torture  me  to  madness ! "  exclaimed 


HAGAR     THE     MARTYR.  117 

the  woman,  springing  up,  and  pacing  the  floor  rapidly.  "  I. 
tell  you  you  must  go !  I'll  not  have  the  curse  of  your  ruin 
on  my  head.  This  house  is  a  hell,  where  the  weakest  of 
our  sex  and  the  worst  of  the  other  congregate  to  break 
every  law  of  God  or  man.  And  he  who  brought  you  here 
—  he  is  a  villain.  Come  with  me." 

Silently  she  led  the  way  through  a  long  hall  to  a  cham 
ber  in  the  distance.  Softly  opening  a  closet  which  com 
municated  with  a  glass  door  leading  to  another  room,  she 
drew  Hagar  within,  and  pointed  to  the  occupants  of  the 
chamber.  One  look  was  enough.  Seated  by  the  side  of  a 
girl  as  young,  as  beautiful,  and  as  brilliant  as  himself  was 
the  man  who  had  allured  her  to  this  scene  of  crime  ! 

"  Now,"  said  the  woman,  as  they  once  more  stood  in  her 
own  chamber,  "  go !  Here  is  money,  plenty  of  it ;  take  it, 
and  sometimes  give  a  kindly  thought  to  one  '  more  sinned 
against  than  sinning.'  Flight  may  make  for  you  a  better 
fate  than  mine,  and  it  can't  make  a  worse  one." 

O,  thank  God,  there  is  good  in  all !  That  one  deed  of 
this  lost  woman  will  shine  in  the  day  of  God's  reckoning 
with  a  lustre  that  shall  overshadow  a  thousand  failings. 
Think  of  it,  you  mothers  and  daughters,  who,  secure  in 
your  own  strength,  forget  the  boundless  intensity  of  pas 
sion  which  has  wrecked  the  heart  and  hope  of  thousands 
as  pure  as  yourselves.  Perhaps  that  single  pearl  dropped 
in  the  cup  of  bitter  degradation  may  plead  for  her  in  that 
day  as  for  one  that  had  bartered  her  happiness  for  the 
worthless  flower  that  had  withered  in  her  hand. 


CHAPTER    XI. 

FLIGHT  OF  THE  MARTTE. 

THE  next  phase  in  Hagar's  life  was  that  of  a  young  girl, 
with  an  infant  scarcely  less  helpless  in  her  arms,  wandering 
away  in  quest  of  an  uncle  whom  she  had  heard  of  in 
Charlestown.  Street  after  street  was  labored  through  in 
vain,  till  nature  gave  way,  and  the  helpless  mother  sank 
with  her  charge  upon  the  step  of  a  pleasant  dwelling. 
Now  came  a  scene  of  bustle  and  excitement.  Fortune 
had  favored  her  at  last.  The  house  was  the  one  she  had 
so  long  searched  for ;  and,  what  was  better,  Minnie  had 
found  it  a  refuge  in  her  escape  from  slavery.  Her  undo 
was  a  rough  man,  but  not  unfeeling.  After  an  explanation 
and  a  sufficiency  of  oaths  he  sat  himself  down  to  think. 
The  world  mustn't  know  it;  his  friends  mustn't  know  it; 
Walter  —  for  whom  he  entertained  an  especial  regard  — 
he,  of  all  others,  mustn't  know  it.  And  so  they  planned 
and  schemed,  and  finally  concluded  —  as  Hagar  resolutely 
refused  to  part  with  her  child  —  to  have  it  left  at  their 
door  in  a  basket.  The  poor  thing,  however,  saved  them 
the  trouble ;  for,  after  a  few  days  of  suffering,  they  laid  it 
to  sleep  with  the  birds  and  flowers  in  the  Charlestown 
graveyard. 

(118) 


IIAGAR     THE     MARTYR.  119 

After  the  burial  of  her  child  Ilagar  seemed  to  awake  to 
a  new  life.  She  was  then  scarce  sixteen,  though  the  rav 
ages  of  sorrow  had  made  her  look  much  older.  It  was 
months  before  she  fully  comprehended  the  nature  of  the 
sacrifice  that  she  had  made  of  all  that  renders  holy  and 
beautiful  the  cestus  of  womanhood ;  but  when  she  did,  it 
was  with  that  species  of  horror  which  was  worse  than 
unconsciousness.  "  I  can  never  hold  up  my  head  again," 
she  would  murmur  to  her  uncle.  He  was  a  substantial 
man  —  was  old  David  Warren  —  and,  what  was  more,  a 
good  man.  He  believed  it  best  for  all  parties  to  conceal 
the  history  of  Hagar,  and  to  encourage  her  in  a  life  of 
virtue  and  propriety.  He  had  convinced  himself  that  her 
heart  was  sound,  and  that  was  enough  for  him.  She  had 
sinned,  but  it  was  with  an  unconsciousness  of  evil  that  all 
the  truly  good  would  forgive ;  and  so  he  strengthened  her 
resolulion,  and  helped  her  into  the  broad  and  open  field  of 
thought  which  heretofore  had  seemed  shut  against  her. 
Her  uncle's  wealth  brought  around  her  a  large  circle  of 
friends,  amongst  whom  were  Walter  Meadows  (who  had 
come  to  Boston  to  practise)  and  Anna  Welman,  who,  hav 
ing  finished  her  schooling,  had  returned  to  triumph  in  the 
field  of  Boston  aristocracy.  She  had  taken  care  to  resume 
her  acquaintance  with  Walter,  for  she  had  watched  him 
growing  up  in  the  splendor  of  his  intellect  —  handsome, 
talented,  and  popular.  Thus  far  her  siege  upon  his  heart 
had  proved  unsuccessful ;  but  hers  was  not  a  spirit  to  grow 
discouraged  at  slight  rebuffs.  Walter  had  never  married. 


120  HAGAR     THE      MARTYR. 

The  announcement  in  the  paper  that  Laird  had  given 
Hagar  had  been  premature.  There  had  been  a  talk  to 
that  effect,  and  he  had  even  engaged  himself  to  the  con 
sumptive  daughter  of  his  beloved  benefactor ;  but  she  had 
died  before  the  consummation  of  the  ceremony.  Her  death 
left  Walter  free  in  person,  as  he  had  ever  remained  in 
heart.  It  was  not  long  before  he  proposed  to  Hagar  in 
something  more  earnest  than  the  boyish  declaration  of 
their  former  years ;  but  she,  in  her  quiet  way,  assured  him 
that  their  intimacy  could  only  be  one  of  friendship.  In 
vain  he  pleaded  with  her  to  think  it  over ;  she  had  done 
so ;  and,  though  she  went  a  shade  paler  at  the  thought, 
she  quietly  advised  him  to  turn  his  eyes  and  his  heart 
elsewhere.  He  did  not  see  the  convulsive  weeping 
which  always  followed  these  rejections,  or  he  would  have 
felt  the  secret  which  stood  between  him  and  wedded  hap 
piness. 

But  Anna  Welman  saw  it  all  —  saw  it  with  eyes  full  of 
jealous  rage  —  and  inwardly  vowed  that,  sooner  than  lose 
him,  she  would  destroy  the  rival  who,  with  all  her  assump 
tion  of  calmness,  it  was  easy  to  see  gave  back  worship  for 
worship,  as  far  as  the  sentiment  bestowed  by  Walter  might 
resemble  it.  For  this  purpose,  as  in  the  days  of  their 
schooling,  with  the  most  treacherous  intent  she  ingratiated 
herself  so  firmly  in  the  good  will  of  Hagar  that  the  two 
were  seldom  separated.  All  her  thoughts,  wishes,  and 
aspirations  were  shared  with  her  friend ;  nor  could  any  one 
have  convinced  her  that  what  seemed  so  real  were  but  the 


HAGAR      THE      MARTYR.  121 

jealous  impulses  of  a  rival  heart  striving  to  undermine 
her  with  her  lover.  With  Hagar's  impetuous  and  stormy 
nature  it  was  impossible  that  Walter  in  time  should  not 
have  come  to  be  so  acknowledged.  At  first  she  strove 
against  it,  heart  and  soul ;  but  her  own  wishes  were  so 
in  keeping  with  his  own  that  she  could  not  resist  yield 
ing  to  his  love,  although  strenuously  refusing  to  become 
his  wife. 

"  It  never  can  be,  Walter  —  indeed,  it  never  can  be  ! "  she 
would  say,  when  over  urged.  And  so  it  went  on,  year  in 
and  year  out,  till  Hagar  had  reached  her  twentieth  year. 
Long  before  that  there  had  been  a  "  new  star  "  in  the  liter 
ary  firmament,  whose  brilliancy  for  the  time  created  spec 
ulation  enough  for  the  good  gossips  of  Boston.  At  first 
the  name  of  the  "  new  light "  was  kept  a  profound  secret. 
It  was  not  long,  however,  in  leaking  out ;  for  Hagar's  gar 
rulous  uncle  was  too  proud  of  the  honor  to  allow  it  to 
remain  in  doubt ;  so  Hagar  was  obliged  to  wear  the  laurel 
she  had  so  honorably  won.  Hagar  was  much  courted; 
what  woman  in  her  position  is  not  ?  and  there  were  plenty 
in  their  own  hearts  who  could  find  subject  matter  in  her 
free  and  independent  life  for  scandal  and  contumely.  She 
could  not  help  it ;  she  could  not  school  her  impulses  to  be 
one  among  the  million;  she  must  do  what  her  nature  ap 
proved,  in  despite  of  the  cold,  critical  world,  who  watched 
her  with  a  jealous  eye.  At  that  time,  unfortunately,  she 
lost  her  uncle.  His  property  being  all  left  to  her  disposal, 
she  removed  from  Charlestown  to  Boston,  and  took  a  resi 

11 

- 


122  HA  GAR      THE      MARTYR. 

dence  in  the  vicinity  of  the  Revere.  Anna  Welman  still 
kept  up  the  greatest  intimacy,  while  her  heart  was  boiling 
over  with  spleen.  There  were  plenty  of  persons  to  join 
her  in  the  disparagement  of  Hagar.  Even  men  —  no;  I 
will  not  degrade  manhood  by  classing  with  it  this  nonde 
script  breed,  this  clique  of  pantaloon  scandal  mongers  — 
but  things  calling  themselves  men  would  league  together  to 
annoy  and  defame  her.  Now,  scandal  in  a  woman  is  simply 
contemptible ;  in  a  man  it  is  disgusting.  We  naturally 
expect  better  things  of  them ;  are  inclined  to  look  up  to 
them  as  the  inheritors  of  the  right  and  might,  which  un 
questionably  descended  to  them  from  the  earliest  ages  ;  but 
when  they  forget  their  dignity,  and  assimilate  to  themselves 
the  meanest  foibles  of  our  sex,  they  cannot  wonder  if 
woman,  acting  upon  the  same  principle,  should  arrogate  a 
portion  of  their  exclusive  right.  Your  men  tattlers  are 
invariably  cowards.  They  will  meet  you  with  a  treach 
erous  smile  and  a  close  clasping  of  hands  before  the  words 
are  cold  or  the  ink  dry  with  which  they  have  tried  to  stab 
and  blacken  your  reputation.  They  will  fawn  and  flatter 
like  a  whipped  cur,  while  their  soul  and  strength  were 
directed  to  the  one  purpose  of  dragging  you  down  to  their 
level.  I  never  meet  with  one  of  this  "  stab-in-the-dark " 
class  of  men  without  wondering  for  what  good  end  God 
Almighty  formed  them.  For  my  part,  I  am  inclined  to 
think  they  are  the  hell  of  this  world  —  a  sort  of  breathing 
retribution  for  the  sins  of  omission  or  commission  with 
which  human  frailty  is  burdened.  Perhaps  some  one  of 


H  A  G  A  R     THE      MARTYR.  123 

my  readers  may  ask,  "  But  why  devote  a  chapter  to  their 
benefit?"  I  will  tell  you.  I  know  a  clique  of  this  kind 
who  will  say,  "  The  author  is  writing  from  her  own  heart." 
And  if  I  am,  what  then  ?  I  have  seen  so  much  of  the 
heartlessness  of  society,  of  its  assumption  of  virtues  which 
it  does  not  possess,  of  its  attempts  to  seem  rather  than  to 
be,  that  I  have  grown  reckless  and  fearless  of  the  critical 
bravo's  stiletto ;  that  I  have  determined  to  paint  out  real 
scenes  and  real  characters ;  at  the  same  time  premising 
that  my  associations  have  been  with  a  class  of  people  no 
more  given  to  error  than  are  those  of  the  "bread  and 
butter"  writers  whose  works  abound  with  angels.  My  war 
is  not  with  the  unfortunate,  but  with  the  masked  pretender  ; 
not  with  those  whose  circumstances  in  life  have  thrown 
them  into  false  positions,  but  against  hypocrites  and  dissem 
blers.  If 

"  I  have  not  loved  the  world,  nor  the  world  me," 

at  least  I  do  not  fear  it ;  and  while  necessity  bids  me  write, 
common  honesty  and  common  humanity  shall  dictate  the 
material,  despite  the  venom  of  would-be  critical  and  whip 
per-snapper  censors. 

Hagar  (as  I  had  begun  to  write  when  my  pen  took  a 
freak  and  darted  off  in  another  direction)  was  the  centre 
of  a  circle  celebrated  for  its  wit,  its  independence,  and  its 
intellect.  Her  home  was  the  resort  of  the  gifted  and  the 
noble ;  and  many  a  brilliant  inspiration,  which  in  matured 
form  won  highest  honor,  blossomed  into  life  in  the  genial 


124  II  A  GAR     THE     MARTYR. 

atmosphere  which  genius  always  creates.  If  in  reality  her 
impulses  were  too  masculine  for  the  recognition  of  the 
world,  those  who  knew  her  well  forgave  her.  Her  charity 
was  proverbial.  No  needy  person  ever  turned  empty- 
handed  from  her  door,  and  no  unfortunate  ones  were  forced 
to  take  the  last  step  in  guilt  for  lack  of  her  friendly  clasp 
to  hold  them  back.  And  yet  —  and  yet — simple  words, 
meaning  so  much!  Underneath  this  quiet  calm  of  her 
external  life  there  was  a  stratum  of  fire  —  a  leaf  of  her 
heart  folded  down  from  the  gaze  of  the  world  —  a  tempest 
uous  sea,  which  was  perpetually  casting  up  darkness  and 
destruction,  —  the  memory  of  that  period  in  her  life  when 
the  earth  was  covered  with  darkness  like  a  pall ;  when 
hope,  strength,  fortitude,  all  were  sunk  in  the  whirlpool  of 
despair.  Her  friends  called  her  capricious ;  they  could  not 
understand  that  sudden  recoil  of  the  spirit  which  would 
sometimes,  in  the  midst  of  a  brilliant  conversation,  roll  over 
her  in  a  flood  of  bitterness.  "  If  they  knew  all ! "  she 
would  sometimes  moan,  in  the  sickness  of  her  heart ;  "  if 
they  knew  all!"  But  what  that  all  was,  no  human  eye 
had  ever  seen,  no  human  ear  had  ever  heard. 

And  yet  Anna  Welman  is  conversant  with  it  all !  Anna 
Welman  watches,  with  her  great  dazzling  eyes,  the  mental 
tortures  which  ever  and  anon  wring  the  bosom  of  her 
friend.  She  sits  with  her  in  the  clear,  still  starlight,  till 
Hagar's  heart  goes  out  in  sorrowful  dreams,  and  she  for 
gets  that  she  is  not  alone.  And  she  ponders  upon  the  time 
when  "Walter  shall  have  learned  it  all,  when  Hagar  shall 


HAGAB      THE     MARTYR.  125 

have  been  discarded,  and  when  she  shall  be  installed  in  her 
much-envied  place. 

And  so  the  time  passes,  till  incidents  tangle  themselves 
up  with  incidents,  and  wind  themselves  in  mockery  around 
the  struggling  girl. 

11* 


CHAPTER    XII. 

PBETTT  ELLEN'S  PHILOSOPHY. 

To  leave  the  suffering  and  the  sorrowful,  —  thus  far  the 
staple  of  my  story,  —  and  come  a  little  nearer  home,  if 
there  is  one  thing  more  than  another  for  which  I  have  an 
especial  eye,  it  is  for  rich  and  tasteful  adornments.  One 
can't  have  too  much  of  a  good  thing,  so  long  as  elegance 
and  judgment  rule  the  parade.  If  nature  had  cast  a  vote 
to  make  me  wear  pantaloons,  I  think  my  talent  for  ^pend 
ing  money  to  good  effect  would  have  been  enormous  ;  as  to 
making  it,  that  would  admit  of  argument. 

If  you  are  good  at  clairvoyance,  I  am  going  to  take  you 
with  me  into  just  such  a  "  love  of  a  room  "  as  I  should  like 
to  live  in,  if  wishes  were  horses  —  quite  a  charming  little 
room,  with  great  blooms  of  flowers  on  the  carpet;  and 
splendid  pier  glasses,  reaching  from  the  floor  to  the  ceiling  ; 
and  crimson  curtains,  so  folded  in  with  costly  lace  that  you 
might  eye  it  from  one  week  to  another  before  guessing 
where  one  began  or  the  other  left  off;  with  statuettes,  and 
vases,  and  costly  pictures  ;  with  books,  and  music,  and  en 
graving?,  ;  in  short,  with  every  thing  which  a  bright  little 
lady,  with  more  money  than  prudence,  would  be  likely  to 

(126) 


HAGAE     THE      MARTYR.  127 

pack  into  her  private  boudoir,  I  suppose  I  ought  to  say, 
as  I'm  writing  a  novel  —  but  between  us,  it  was  only  a 
parlor  on  a  very  expensive  and  altogether  Aladdin-like 
style.  The  room,  at  the  time  of  our  entrance,  had  three 
occupants  ;  one  an  elderly  lady,  —  elderly  for  our  times, 
when  one  is  positively  old  at  forty,  —  the  other  a  beautiful 
girl  of  sixteen  or  thereabouts,  and  the  third  party  a  chubby 
little  boy,  in  disgrace,  for  having,  after  the  twentieth  re 
monstrance,  dragged  his  pet  kitten  into  the  room  with  its 
head  downwards,  causing  on  the  part  of  said  kitten  a  series 
of  vigorous  struggles,  out  of  which  it  had  come  victorious, 
and  escaped  under  the  dress  of  the  elder  lady  of  the  party. 
If  her  words  were  to  be  believed  she  could  show  the  marks 
of  its  claws. 

Chubby  Cheeks  looked  as  if  he  doubted  the  assertion, 
and  wouldn't  object  to  an  ocular  demonstration.  "  I  can 
say  my  lesson,"  said  he,  sliding  down  from  his  perch  just 
far  enough  to  set  his  foot  upon  the  kitten's  tail.  The 
unexpected  action  caused  the  kit  to  turn  a  somerset  over 
the  lady's  foot,  who,  be  it  known,  if  she  had  a  weakness,  it 
was  in  her  fear  of  cats. 

"  Go,  you  naughty  boy,"  said  she,  putting  him  away ; 
but  the  whole  affair  had  been  so  ludicrous  that  the  younger 
companion  caught  him  struggling  in  her  arms,  and  laying 
him  upon  the  hearth  rug,  gave  him  such  a  succession  of 
rolls  and  hugs,  that  he  was  as  glad  to  escape  from  her  as 
the  kitten  had  been  from  himself.  The  incident  which 
favored  his  escape  was  the  entrance  to  the  room  of  a  state- 


128  H  A  G  A  B.     THE     MAKTTR. 

ly,  grim-looking  gentleman,  on  whose  face  a  smile  would 
have  been  out  of  place. 

"  "What  is  this,  Ellen  ? "  said  he,  haughtily  surveytog 
the  now  blushing  girl,  who  still  knelt  upon  the  rug. 

Thinking  to  put  the  best  look  upon  the  matter,  she  turned 
her  face  laughingly  to  him,  and  extending  her  hand,  said, 
"  Please  pick  me  up." 

And  such  a  face  it  was ;  so  bright,  so  wicked,  so  saucy. 
No  one  could  tell  exactly  how  she  looked,  so  changeful 
was  her  expression.  She  might  not  have  been  handsome, 
in  the  common  acceptation  of  the  word,  but  she  certainly 
was  very  lovable  —  very. 

Mr.  Veazie  —  for  he  it  was,  and  by  and  by  in  very  un- 
novel  fashion  I'll  tell  who  he  was  —  walked  with  great 
dignity  and  precision,  and  took  his  seat  by  the  window. 
"JSbw  don't  be  angry,"  said  she,  following  him  up,  and 
flinging  a  handful  of  rose  leaves  at  his  head  ;  at  which  au 
dacious  liberty  the  elderly  lady  looked  perfectly  horror 
stricken.  "  Don't  be  angry ;  I've  a  favor  to  ask ;  and  if 
you  must  be  angry  and  can't  help  it,  wait  till  it  is  granted, 
and  say  no  more  about  it." 

"  You  want  more  money,  I  suppose,"  said  he,  gravely. 

"  That's  just  it,  uncle  Ben ;  there,  I'll  call  you  uncle 
Ben  for  a  week,  if  you  won't  refuse  me  ; "  and  as  the  title 
was  one  which  she  well  knew  revolted  his  dignity,  she  half 
repented  her  sauciness  the  moment  she  had  spoken.  "  Well, 

uncle  Veazie,  then  Now!"  said  she,  drawing  an 

ottoman  along  by  his  side,  and  crouching  down  like  a 
kitten. 


HAGAR      THE     MARTYR.  129 

"  How  long  since  I  supplied  you  fully  ?  "  he  questioned. 

"  Un why,  two  or  three  days  ago." 

"  And  what's  become  of  that  last  hundred  ?  " 

"  Gone,"  said  she,  looking  as  penitent  as  she  could,  upon 
such  short  notice. 

"  Gone  ?  where  ?  "  he  continued. 

"  Spent,"  she  replied. 

"  And  you  want  more  ?  " 

"  Um-ps,"  said  she,  with  a  comical  face. 

"  I  can't  spare  it,"  said  he,  moving  away  and  taking  a 
book. 

"  What !  "  said  she,  in  surprise. 

"  I  can't  spare  it." 

"  You  can't  spare  it !  Who  asked  you  to  spare  it  ?  I 
only  want  my  own  ;  and  what's  the  odds  whether  I  have  it 
now  or  next  week,  or  next  year  ?  Had  I  been  asking  char 
ity,  Benjamin  Veazie,  uncle,  though  he  is,  is  the  last  person 
I  should  have  ventured  to  apply  to ; "  and  a  haughty  flush 
of  indignation  lit  up  her  pretty  face. 

"  I  will  consult  the  leger,  and  see  when  you  can  have 
another  instalment,"  said  he,  rising  to  go. 

"  You'll  do  nothing  of  the  kind,"  said  the  spirited  girl, 
placing  herself  between  him  and  the  door. 

"  What  right  have  you  to  limit  me  in  my  expenses  ? 
They  who  gave  you  guardianship  over  me  never  set  their 
bound  to  my  extravagance,  and  certainly  you  shall  not." 

"  It  would  have  been  better  for  you  if  they  had  exerted 
a  little  parental  authority,"  he  exclaimed. 


130 


H  A  G  A  R     THE      MARTYR. 


"It  would  have  accorded  better  with  your  spirit  of 
meanness,  I  dare  say,  if  they  had,"  she  replied,  her  eyes 
crawling  over  him  with  contemptuous  defiance. 

"  And  what  they  neglected  to  do,  I  shall  perform  for 
them,"  said  he,  stamping  his  foot  with  a  rage  which  he 
could  not  conceal. 

"  O,  do,  do,  do  !  "  said  she,  pacing  backward  and  forward. 
"  Do  !  If  I  want  a  bonnet,  or  a  shawl,  or  a  dress,  I  shall 
say  to  myself,  '  You  are  limited,  my  fine  lady  !  Your  own 
is  not  your  own ;  you  are  not  fit  to  be  trusted  ! '  Or,  if  a 
beggar  wants  a  mouthful  of  bread,  I  shall  say  to  him,  '  I 
can't  give  it  you  now  ;  I'm  limited !  I  shall  have  some 
money  again  one  of  these  days,  next  month,  perhaps,  or 
next  year,  and  then  —  if  you  can  do  without  food  till  then 
—  come  to  me  !  I'm  limited,  limited  ! '  "  said  she,  growing 
warmer  and  warmer  with  each  word.  "  As  if  tastes,  and 
feelings,  and  impulses,  and  desires,  could  be  limited!  As 
if  will,  and  inclination,  and  want,  and  contempt  could  be 
limited ! "  she  went  on,  fiercely  aggravating  each  word. 
For  the  first  time  she  raised  her  eyes  and  looked  scornfully 
at  her  uncle. 

"  Have  you  done  ?  "  said  he,  with  contemptuous  gravity. 

"  As  if  I  could  help  hating  a  man  who  tries  all  in  his 
power  to  make  me  wretched  —  whose  greatest  misery  is  to 
see  me  happy.  As  if  I  could  help  scorning  the  man  who 
takes  every  opportunity  to  annoy  and  vex  me.  No  !  thank 
fortune,  you  are  no  blood  of  mine,  though  you  call  yourself 
my  uncle.  Nothing  so  mean,  so  hateful  and  contemptible, 


HAGAR     THE     MARTYR. 


181 


ever  belonged  to  our  family,  and  I'm  sure,  had  my  father 
known  how  you  would  abuse  the  trust,  he  never  would 
have  placed  it  in  your  power  to  worry  and  torment  me  as 
you  do."  She  hastily  wiped  her  eyes  as  if  she  was  ashamed 
of  such  a  waste  of  feeling,  and  tried  to  summon  a  stoicism 
quite  unusual  to  her.  "  Once  for  all  —  am  I  to  have  the 
money  I  want  ?  " 

"  No  !  "  was  the  determined  reply.  "  If  you  choose  to 
run  into  extravagances  and  follies  beyond  your  means,  I 
choose  to  restrain  you.  You'll  thank  me  for  it  yet." 

"  O,  I  dare  say  ;  thoughtful  man  !  considerate  man  !  Of 
course,  money  is  worth  something  handsome,  now,  in  these 
hard  times  ;  but  that's  nothing  !  Of  course,  a  double  inter 
est  tells  with  some  people  —  not  meaning  you !  I  beg 
your  pardon  ;  I  thought  it  was  my  fortune  you  was  specu 
lating  upon  ;  I  find  it  was  yours  !  " 

The  beautiful,  wayward  girl  was  gone.  For  some  min 
utes  Mr.  Veazie  stood  leaning  his  head  upon  the  mantel 
piece.  From  the  first  symptoms  of  a  storm,  Mrs.  Willard, 
the  mother  of  the  offending  Ellen,  had  taken  her  boy  and 
left  the  room.  He  was  evidently  brooding  over  the  insult 
ing  expressions  his  ward  had  used ;  was  striving,  by  nurs 
ing  his  anger,  to  break  up  the  influence  which,  notwith 
standing  his  perverseness,  he  could  not  help  knowing  she 
exercised  over  him.  He  was  neither  selfish  nor  greedy, 
and  yet  such  was  the  implication  of  her  recent  taunts.  She 
had  been  placed  under  his  control  a  wild,  intractable  girl, 
with  expensive  habits  which  had  never  been  restricted,  and 


132  HAGAR     THE      MARTYR. 

a  fortune  greatly  impaired  by  these  habits.  He  had  been 
her  father's  earliest  friend,  and  often  mourned  in  secret  this 
same  waywardness  of  spirit  and  disregard  of  advice,  which 
now  he  was  endeavoring  to  counteract  in  the  child. 

Perhaps  she  had  found  out  —  for  women  are  quick  at 
such  work  —  that  this  seemingly  cold  and  insensible  man, 
with  half  as  many  years  to  his  age  as  she  could  count 
months  —  this  cynical,  repulsive,  severe  man,  had  become 
by  degrees  entangled  in  the  web  of  fascination  which  had 
been  woven  for  more  susceptible  game.  Be  that  as  it  may, 
if  he  was  a  captive,  never  lion  bore  his  fetters  with  more 
impatient  chafing  than  did  this  severe  guardian  of  a  teas 
ing,  tormenting,  beautiful  girl.  If  he  had  all  his  lifetime 
treated  the  subject  of  love  with  most  unmitigated  contempt 
—  if  he  had  not  scoffed  at  it,  abused  it,  and  scorned  such 
as  fell  victims  to  its  power  —  the  galling  chain  of  servitude 
would  have  been  less  hard  to  bear.  The  more  he  felt  con 
vinced  of  the  sweet  influence  Ellen  was  exerting  over  him, 
the  harsher,  harder,  and  more  repellent  he  became  to  her. 
What  right  had  she,  a  thoughtless,  heedless,  careless  girl, 
to  awaken  in  his  seared  heart  emotions  which  had  a  whole 
lifetime  been  strangers  to  it  ?  What  right  had  she  to  in 
trude  her  sweet  face  between  him  and  his  dreams ;  be 
tween  him  and  his  waking  thoughts ;  between  him  and 
the  world  which  had  been  his  love ;  and  create  a  long 
ing,  yearning,  unsatisfied  desire  for  something  unattainable 
and  beyond  his  reach.  Never  a  party  man,  or  a  society 
man,  until  she  needed  his  guardianship,  now  his  evenings 


HAGAB     THE     MARTYR.  133 

were  occupied  in  fulfilling  such  or  such  an  engagement, 
to  which  his  ward  gave  brilliancy.  In  vain  he  strove  to 
blind  himself  to  his  infatuation  —  to  believe  it  a  duty  to 
save  her  from  the  dazzling  brilliancy  of  false  appearances. 
The  fierce  (more  fierce  for  the  necessity  of  concealment) 
anger  with  which  he  saw  her  gay,  chatty,  and  communi 
cative  —  the  life  and  soul  of  her  "  set "  —  would  have  con 
vinced  hun,  if  nothing  else  had  done  so,  that  he  was  most 
safely  bound  in  the  fetters  of  that  arch-rogue  Cupid. 
Never  had  this  same  Cupid  such  revenge  of  scoffing  hu 
manity,  and  never  did  he  exact  so  hardly  the  tax  due  his 
dignity,  as  in  the  instance  of  Mr.  Veazie. 

And  this  it  was  that  rendered  him  so  severe  and  tyran 
nical.  To  feel  himself  thus  snared  by  a  child,  with  the 
best  feelings  of  his  nature  at  her  mercy,  was  quite  enough. 
He  would  do  any  oppressive  act  to  keep  that  knowledge 
from  her  own  tantalizing  self.  He  could  imagine  the  mock 
ing  laugh  with  which  she  would  receive  an  acknowledgment 
of  his  affection ;  and  that  he  did  not  hate,  and  annoy,  and 
purposely  vex  her  was  because  invention  was  at  fault 
wherewith  to  find  material.  And  Ellen  —  what  of  her? 
Sometimes,  when  glowing  and  heated  with  conquest  after 
conquest,  —  for  she  was  a  belle  and  a  beauty,  —  when  life, 
despite  the  clouds  of  her  home,  seemed  a  season  of  bril 
liant,  gorgeous,  never-ending  excitement,  —  when  the  gifted, 
the  proud,  and  the  beautiful  swam  like  visions  before  her 
bewildered  senses,  —  a  hard,  harsh  figure  would  inter 
vene  —  a  severe  and  repellent  face  would  glimmer  before 
12 


134  HAGAR     THE     MARTYR. 

her  mental  vision,  in  the  study  of  which  she  was  prone  to 
find  relief  from  the  unsubstantial  flummery —  the  ten  thou 
sand  and  one  nothings  which  go  to  make  up  the  bulk  of 
society.  Did  she  love  that  stern  and  uncompromising  man, 
who,  of  all  the  world,  openly  defied  and  thwarted  her  in 
every  way  ?  The  idea  was  too  ridiculous  to  win  a  second 
thought.  And  yet  it  was  certain  that,  when  weariness  or 
satiety,  or  that  dreariness  of  spirit  which  at  times  comes  to 
the  gayest  of  us,  overtook  her,  he  of  all  other  men  claimed 
her  thoughts  ,and  regrets,  and  won  from  her  heart  a  secret 
promise  to  deal  more  considerately  with  him,  and  not  so 
often  cloud  his  brow  with  the  mischievous  pranks  which, 
after  all,  were  only  mischief.  I  have  often  thought  it  a 
pity  that  people  so  wilfully  misunderstand  each  other. 
One  half  of  the  mjsery  of  human  life  arises  from  it  —  at 
least,  such  has  been  my  experience.  Ellen  had  scarcely 
gained  her  room  before  she  repented  the  waym  words  and 
wanner  temper  she  had  bestowed  upon  her  guardian.  It  is 
as  much  as  my  word  of  veracity  is  worth  to  describe  Ellen 
Willard  just  as  she  was,  with  all  her  virtues,  faults,  eccen 
tricities,  and  blandishments  upon  her  head  ;  and  yet  there 
is  scarcely  a  social  circle  in  our  midst  that  has  not  in  it  an 
Ellen  Willard  under  some  other  name.  Full  of  thoughtless 
and  untamable  spirits,  she  was  perpetually  running  her 
curly  head  into  mischief,  and  laughing  herself  safely  out 
of  it.  Singing,  dancing,  riding,  or  talking,  she  was  equally 
at  home,  and  equally  fascinating.  To  say  the  truth,  the 
generality  of  her  sex  were  more  worried  for  her  character 


HAGAR     THE      MARTYR.  135 

than  they  would  have  been  had  she  been  twenty  years 
older  and  defective  in  person,  and  more  lenient  to  her  whims 
than  they  could  have  been  but  for  that  thirty  thousand  in 
the  perspective.  I'm  sorry  to  own  it,  but  my  sex  are  not 
quite  angelic  in  their  temper  to  one  whjo  has  the  reputation 
of  knocking  down  tenpins  and  gentlemen's  hearts  with  equal 
facility.  I  don't  think  women  are  quite  aware  of  their 
habit  of  dissecting  character  on  every  occasion.  It  seems 
an  epidemic  with  the  generality  of  the  sex.  The  warmest 
friends  —  the  truest  and  most  intimate  —  find  some  mote  in 
each  other's  eye  when  talking  to  a  third  party.  I  remem 
ber  once  being  taken  to  task  for  my  avoidance  of  women 
gatherings.  The  same  evening  chance  called  my  interloc 
utor  and  myself  to  a  party  in  which  women  predominated. 
From  the  time  we  sat  down  to  the  time  we  rose  to  depart, 
a  constant  flood  of  small  scandal  overwhelmed  all  efforts  at 
intellectual  conversation.  "  There,"  I  said,  when  once  in 
the  street ;  "  you  blame  me  that  I  do  not  cultivate  my  own 
sex.  You  have  had  a  specimen  of  their  employment.  By 
this  time  I  am  over  the  coals,  and  before  they  have  done 
with  me  I  shall  be  in  tatters  ;  and  yet  they  wouldn't  say  a 
word  to  injure  me  for  the  world.  I  tell  you,  when  women 
are  alone  they  are  inveterate  scandal-mongers ! " 

I  wish  the  progressive  people  would  take  the  subject  in 
hand  —  they  couldn't  do  better  than  to  fine  every  woman 
who  speaks  ill  of  a  neighbor  unnecessarily.  But,  bless  me, 
how  I  have  wandered !  If,  however,  I  have  held  a  glass 
wherein  cliques  can  see  their  folly,  it  won't  be  wandering  in 


136  HAQAB     THE     MARTYR. 

vain.  Scandal-mongers  don't  get  half  lashing  enough,  any 
how.  But  of  Ellen.  If  women  fought  shy  of  her  pres 
ence,  the  men  made  it  up  in  over-devotion.  Never  was 
girlhood  more  petted  and  idolized  than  hers ;  and  never  did 
maiden  dispense  her  smiles  and  repartees  with  greater 
prodigality,  yet  fairness  of  division,  than  did  pretty  Ellen 
Willard.  And  her  guardian  saw  it  all,  and  inwardly  chafed 
and  fretted  at  what  he  could  not  control.  Had  she  lived 
in  the  days  of  dungeons,  her  chance  for  liberty  of  speech 
or  person,  I  fear,  would  have  been  exceedingly  small.  As 
I  was  saying,  the  quick  impulse  of  her  sweet,  childish  dis 
position  turned  her  anger  to  penitence,  and  without  waiting 
to  change  her  mind,  she  tripped  down  stairs  again  in  great 
humility.  She  never  thought  of  herself  or  of  her  own 
dignity  when  wrong,  however  inadvertently,  had  been  done. 

"  Please  forgive  me,"  she  murmured,  half  laughing.  "  I 
won't  do  so  any  more." 

"  O  Ellen,  you  should  be  the  last  to  taunt  me  with 
meanness !  You  know,  as  far  as  reason  is  concerned,  I 
never  deny  your  wishes." 

Ellen  had  a  torrent  of  self-accusation  to  pour  out,  which 
quite  subdued  the  stern  guardian,  and  wrung  from  him  the 
very  check  for  money  which  he  had  denied  her  a  moment 
before.  Ellen  flung  her  arms  about  his  neck,  and  protested 
that  she  could  do  without  it,  if  he  needed  it ;  and  there  is 
no  knowing  what  he  might  have  urged  in  her  moment  of 
self-abasement,  had  not  the  announcement  been  made  that 
the  horses  were  at  the  door.  Ellen's  maid,  also,  appeared 


H  A  G  A  II     THE     MAETYR.  137 

at  the  same  time,  bearing  the  riding  hat  and  whip  of  her 
mistress.  If  there  was  one  thing  that  Ellen  could  do  better 
than  another,  it  was  to  manage  a  horse.  She  had  a  perfect 
passion  for  horses,  to  indulge  her  in  which  her  guardian 
had  made  her  a  present  of  a  superb  animal,  which,  she  justly 
affirmed,  could  do  any  thing  but  talk.  The  lithe,  supple 
limbs  —  the  close,  glossy  coat,  so  smooth  and  shining  —  the 
neck  arched  and  graceful  as  a  swan's  —  the  head  sitting 
upon  it  in  superb  haughtiness  —  all  were  admiration  points 
in  her  eyes,  upon  which  she  was  never  tired  of  descanting. 
There  was,  too,  evidently,  an  understanding  between  Noble 
and  his  lovely  mistress.  His  eyes  would  brighten  at  her  ap 
proach  with  restless,  eager  joy ;  and  though  every  nerve  would 
quiver  with  joyous  expectancy,  no  backing,  or  curvetting, 
or  shying  would  endanger  the  beautiful  burden,  whose  ex 
quisite  form  matched  so  well  with  his  own  faultless  exterior. 
Ellen  was  turning  to  leave  the  room,  when  the  door  sud 
denly  opened,  and  a  servant  made  his  appearance. 

"  Are  you  at  home,  Miss  Ellen  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  I  don't  know.  Who  is  it  ?  "  And  she  held  her  hand 
for  the  cards. 

"  Mrs.  Welman,  the  Misses  Welman,  and  Mr.  Florid." 

'•  Mr.  Florid  ? "  asked  Mr.  Veazie,  flushing  to  the  tem 
ples.  "  No  !  she  is  not  at  home." 

"  O,  ain't  I,  though  !  Here,  Mary,  take  my  hat  and 
whip  ;  and,  John,  ask  the  party  in,  and  then  exercise  Noble. 
I  shan't  ride  to-day  —  unless,  indeed,  Mr.  Florid  chooses 
to  be  my  escort." 

12* 


188  HAGAB     THE     MAKTYR. 

Mr.  Veazie  bit  his  lip,  and  turned  to  the  window  in  si 
lence.  Ellen  sent  a  smile  of  triumph  after  him,  and  yawned 
a  bewitching  little  yawn,  sacred  to  the  party  whose  entrance 
broke  it  in  half. 

Mrs.  Welman  was  one  of  the  new-fashioned,  energetic, 
manly  sort  of  women  whom  every  body  disliked,  yet  every 
body  feared  to  offend  —  rather  limited  in  her  ideas  of  right 
and  wrong,  wealthy  enough  to  defy  any  opinion  that  stood 
in  her  way  to  pleasure,  and  liberal  enough  to  buy  that  char 
ity  which  is  supposed  to  cover  a  multitude  of  sins.  The 
world  treated  her  with  prudent  respect,  because  she  was 
one  of  the  tremendous  kind  who  insisted  upon  a  why  and  a 
wherefore  to  every  thing.  Few  persons  were  daring  enough 
to  come  under  the  sledge  hammer  of  her  sarcasm,  for  it 
was  generally  understood  that  when  once  the  lion  in  her 
nature  was  aroused,  the  lily  itself  would  have  left  her  hand 
stained  and  spotted.  She  was  one  of  those  pests  of  society 
who  dissect  and  gather  up  every  record  of  those  with  whom 
they  mingle.  There  was  no  hiding  the  skeleton  from  her 
eyes.  The  world  might  not  see  it,  but  it  was. clear  as  day 
light  to  her  searching  eyes.  There  was  no  shutting  the 
dark  corner  of  the  heart  from  her  inspection  —  she  knew 
every  secret  of  it  as  well  as  did  the  owner  thereof  himself. 
Her  daughter  Anna  is  already  familiar  to  my  readers  as 
the  companion  at  school  of  Hagar  Martin.  The  dark  points 
in  her  mother's  character  were  fully  inherited  by  her ;  and 
with  such  an  instructor,  she  was  not  far  behind  her  in  self 
ishness  and  dissembling.  Allie,  the  youngest,  was  a  quiet, 


II  A  G  A  R      THE      MARTYR.  139 

shy  little  girl,  to  whom  Ellen  was  really  attached.  There 
was  a  Mr.  Welman,  —  so  report  said.  No  one  ever  saw 
him  at  home,  or  mingling  in  the  society  that  his  wife  fre 
quented  ;  but  at  the  close  of  day,  a  pale,  worn,  heart-broken 
individual  was  usually  seen  entering  the  area  door  of  the 
dwelling ;  and  this,  they  said,  was  Mr.  Welman,  the  mil- 
lionnaire  !  Allie,  quiet  as  she  was,  was  too  beautiful  not  to 
be  a  thorn  in  the  side  of  her  ambitious  sister ;  so  no  objec 
tion  was  made  to  her  earnest  wish  to  pass  the  evening  in 
the  basement  with  her  father.  Her  sister  said  it  was  because 
young  Altimus,  the  new  clerk  of  the  Welman  firm,  spent 
a  portion  of  his  leisure  hours  therein  ;  but  her  father  knew 
it  was  to  make  some  amends  lo  him  for  the  ingratitude  and 
coldness  of  her  mother  and  sister.  It  was  a  beautiful  sight, 
however,  to  see  her  young,  innocent  head  bent  lovingly  over 
her  father,  or  seated  by  his  side,  reading  to  him  from  some 
book  which  would  amuse  him.  The  Welmans  had  long 
been  obnoxious  to  Mr.  Veazie.  The  lash  of  Mrs.  Wei- 
man's  tongue  was  no  bugbear  to  him,  whatever  it  might 
have  been  to  others  ;  but  he  disliked  her  most  thoroughly, 
and  had  often  expressed  the  keenest  dissatisfaction  at  Ellen's 
recognition  of  them.  This  day,  in  particular,  he  was  op 
posed  to  their  being  admitted ;  for  (what,  in  his  eyes,  seemed 
an  insult  to  the  pure  girl  under  his  guidance)  they  were 
accompanied  by  a  most  notorious  libertine,  who  was  even 
then  the  talk  of  the  city,  from  an  expose  reflecting  little 
honor  and  less  manhood  upon  him. 
"  What  is  the  news  ? "  was,  as  usual,  Mrs.  Welman's 


140  HA  GAR     THE     MARTYK. 

salutation.  "  Of  course  you  have  heard  of  Harriet  Lee's 
elopement  —  and  with  Tom  Harris,  of  all  persons  in  the 
world !  It  seems  to  me,  if  I  was  going  to  run  off,  it  would 
be  with  somebody  worth  suffering  the  censure  for.  I  sup 
pose  they  think  old  Lee  will  be  glad  to  hush  it  up,  and 
come  to  terms  ;  but  he  won't.  I  know  him  like  a  book ; 
and  they  may  bet  their  life  he  won't." 

Ellen  laughed,  and  presumed  it  didn't  matter,  so  long  as 
he  had  got  Harriet. 

*  0,  don't  it,  though ! "  she  exclaimed.  "  Trust  Tom 
Harris  not  to  know  the  value  of  money.  Besides,  they  do 
say  he  isn't  over  and  above  fond  of  her,  any  how  !  " 

"Not  fond  of  her!  What  did  he  take  the  trouble  of 
running  off  with  her  for  ?  " 

"  Why,  for  what  will  be  hers  when  the  old  man  steps  out. 
But  that's  nothing  to  the  scrape  George  Worrell  is  in." 

"  What's  he  done  ? "  queried  Ellen,  glancing  over  to 
Veazie,  to  see  how  he  was  bearing  the  flood  of  small  talk. 

u  I  suppose  you  know  he  has  lost  his  clerkship  at  Honey 
well's  ?  " 

"  Indeed !  No  —  we  are  out  of  the  way  of  news.  It  is 
quite  a  godsend  when  you  call  —  we  make  up  for  lost  time. 
It  is  about  as  much  as  poor  we  can  do  to  take  care  of  our 
own  affairs ! " 

Mrs.  Welman  looked  suddenly  up  at  Ellen;  but  there 
was  such  a  demure,  innocent  expression  of  her  face,  that 
she  could  not  think  there  was  meaning  in  her  remark. 

"  Tell  Ellen,  ma'am,  about  George  and  the  Honeywells." 


HAGAR     THE     MARTYR.  141 

"It  is  about  the  funniest  thing  out.  But  I  never  did 
think  much  of  Mrs.  Honeywell.  She  is  rather  fast  for  a 
married  woman  —  eh,  Florid  ! " 

The  gentleman  addressed  vouchsafed  a  sickly  smile,  and 
complaisantly  smoothed  his  mustache  with  the  ivory  leg  on 
his  polished  ratan. 

"  How  was  it  ?  "  he  asked,  in  an  affected  drawl. 

"  Why,  Mrs.  Honeywell  was  always  sweet  upon  George 
before  she  was  married,  some  folks  say.  Any  how,  she  got 
him  the  situation  with  her  husband,  and  seemed  to  take  an 
especial  pleasure  in  his  company.  One  day,  old  Honeywell, 
who,  it  appears,  began  to  think  there  was  something  in  the 
wind  not  quite  the  cheese,  sent  him  home  of  an  errand,  and 
followed  shortly  after.  What  occurred  I  don't  know,  I'm 
sure,  nor  don't  want  to.  I  would  have  taken  her  part,  for, 
after  all,  I  don't  know  as  she  was  so  much  to  blame ;  but, 
would  you  believe  it  ?  when  I  called  the  next  day  to  sympa 
thize  with  her,  she  told  me,  blunt  as  could  be,  that  if  people 
would  mind  their  own  business  it  would  be  just  as  well  for 
them.  An  upstartish  thing." 

"  And  George  is  turned  away  ?  " 

"  Turned  away  ?  I  guess  so  ;  you  don't  think  Honeywell 
would  have  him  there,  after  catching  him  in  an  intrigue  with 
his  wife  ?  " 

"  Nonsense,  Mrs.  Welman  ;  I  saw  him  in  the  store  this 
morning,"  answered  Mr.  Veazie. 

"  0,  ho !  there's  Cynic !  I  didn't  see  you  before.  Well,  I 
had  it  from  Mrs.  Somerby.  I  don't  know  where  she  got  her 


142  HAG  AH     THE     MARTYR. 

news  ;  but  I  had  mine  straight  enough  !  Any  how,  there's 
some  truth  in  the  report  of  Mrs.  Western's  following  her 
husband  to  a  place  where  he  had  no  business  as  a  married 
man.  They  say  she  pitched  into  him  right  and  left, 
knocked  his  hat  off,  and  tore  his  shirt." 

"  No,  ma'am,  you  haven't  got  it  right.  She  heard  he  v,*ns 
going  out  to  ride  with  some  woman,  and  watched  the  stable 
when  he  came  home.  It  was  a  funny  scene  —  better  than 
any  of  the  dramas  at  the  National." 

"  Why,  I  never  knew  Mrs.  Western  added  jealousy  to 
her  other  charms,"  said  Ellen,  laughingly.  She  was  taking 
a  mischievous  pleasure  just  then  in  the  wri things  of  her 
guardian. 

"  Jealous  !  O  dear,  yes ;  she  thinks  every  woman  that 
looks  at  her  husband  wants  to  get  up  a  flirtation  with 
him.  She  makes  herself,  and  him,  a  perfect  laughing  stock. 
Every  body  knows  what  a  flirt  he  is ;  and  the  idea  of  her 
keeping  him  tied  to  her  apron  string  is  funny." 

"  Why,  Anna,"  chimed  in  Florid,  "  I  saw  you  out  riding 
with  him  the  other  day.  Better  not  let  her  know  it,  or  in 
sure  your  curls.  She  hits  from  the  shoulder." 

"  Yes ;  I  was  crossing  the  bridge  when  he  came  along 
with  that/  splendid  team  of  his.  He  was  alone,  and  I  was 
alone.  Besides,  there  was  no  harm  in  riding  with  him  if 
people  were  not  so  malicious  as  to  make  harm  of  it.  The 
next  day  I  was  honored  with  a  call  from  her.  She  would 
have  been  quite  ferocious,  but  I  drew  this  bit  of  a  dagger, 
and  laid  it  on  the  table  beside  me.  I  don't  know  what  she 


HAGAR     THE     MARTYR.  143 

said  then  —  some  hifalluten  about  riding  with  other  people's 
husbands.  For  my  part,  I  have  no  pity  for  a  jealous 
woman." 

"  I  believe  you,"  muttered  Mr.  Veazie,  rising  and  walking 
to  the  window.  Even  Ellen  was  getting  uneasy.  Here 
were  persons  tolerated  in  good  society,  making  boasts  of  in 
discretions,  to  use  their  lightest  name,  which  ought  to  start 
the  blush  from  purity's  fair  cheek. 

"  But  have  you,  Mr.  Veazie.  It  strikes  me,  that  when 
you  have  a  wife,  jealousy  will  be  on  the  other  foot." 

"  And  it  strikes  me  when  I  have  a  wife,  it  will  be  one 
whose  sense  of  self-respect  and  womanly  modesty  will  pre 
clude  all  possibility  of  jealousy." 

"  Ay  ;  but  there  is  such  a  thing  as  a  person  being  jealous 
without  a  cause." 

"  No  sensible  person,  Miss  Welman.  Where  I  love,  I 
must  respect.  If  I  was  unfortunate  enough  to  be  the  hus 
band  of  a  woman  who,  for  the  gratification  of  her  own  fool 
ish  vanity,  could  stoop  to  make  me  appear  contemptible  in 
the  eyes  of  the  world,  or  of  those  about  me,  I  would " 

"  Well  —  lohat  would  Mr.  Philosopher  do  ?  "  interrupted 
Ellen. 

"  Hate  her  —  detest  her  —  kill  her  !  "  he  retorted,  flash 
ing  his  eyes  full  upon  the  questioner. 

"O  dear,  bless  me.  A  pretty  prospect  for  somebody" 
sneered  Anna. 

"  Don't  be  alarmed,  Miss  Welman.     It  won't  be  you !  " 

"  Heaven  forbid !     The  woman  who  marries  you  will 


144  HAGAR     THE      MARTYR. 

want  the  patience  of  Job,  backed  up  by  the  seven  cardinal 
virtues,  to  bear  with  your  old,  capricious  behind-the-age 
views,"  retorted  Anna,  crimson  with  rage.  "  Come,  Florid 
—  ma'am,  let's  go  !  " 

"  But  you  haven't  told  Miss  Willard  what  you  came  for. 
You  let  such  trifles  excite  you,"  whispered  Florid,  bending 
over  Anna.  "  What  do  you  care  for  an  old  grampus  like 
that,  as  long  as  I  don't  find  fault  with  you  ?  "  Anna  shook 
him  off,  by  no  means  appeased. 

"0  —  ay !  a  costume  party,  Ellen,"  broke  in  Mrs.  Wei- 
man.  "We  are  getting  up  one  for  Wednesday ;  that's  Anna's 
birthday,  you  know  ;  and  we  want  a  '  Dudu '  for  the  occa 
sion.  There  are  plenty  of  girls  in  the  city  that  would  jump 
at  the  chance,  but  we  intend  being  rather  exclusive ;  be 
sides,  your  eyes  and  your  hah-  would  be  just  the  thing  for 
'  Dudu  ; '  Byron's  '  Dudu,'  you  know !  Of  course,  you 
have  read  Byron's  Don  Juan." 

u  No  ;  I  have  not  advanced  in  my  fashionable  education 
that  far,  Mrs.  Welman,"  answered  Ellen,  with  a  slight 
shade  of  seriousness.  "Uncle  tells  me  there  are  other 
poems  of  Byron  preferable  to  that  one  for  my  perusal,  and 
in  this  instance  I  judge  his  taste  is  better  than  mine." 

"  O,  how  can  he  say  so  ?  Don  Juan  is  delicious.  I  could 
repeat  it  by  heart,"  was  the  enthusiastic  rejoinder  of 
Anna. 

"  Not  here,  if  you  please,  Miss  Welman.  Ellen's  taste 
meets  my  approval,  and  I  should  be  sorry  to  have  it  per 
verted.  There  are  some  poems  I  should  be  sorry  to  see  in 


II  A  G  A  H      THE      MARTYR.  145 

the  hands  of  my  ward,  and  the  one  you  specified  is  among 
the  number." 

"  "Well,  this  is  interesting,  at  all  events,"  broke  in  Mr. 
Florid,  who  had  all  along  been  a  quiet  spectator.  "  I  pro 
pose  adjournment,  although  Miss  Willard  looks  beautiful 
enough  to  tempt  a  longer  visit,  if  she  could  be  prevailed 
upon  to  say  any  thing  agreeable." 

"  I  couldn't  say  any  thing  agreeable  to  you  !  " 

"Why?" 

"  Because  I  don't  like  you  well  enough." 

"  Sincere,  at  all  events,"  muttered  the  crestfallen  man. 

"  Sincerity  is  oftentimes  impertinence,"  rebuked  Mrs. 
Welman. 

"  In  what  manner  is  Mr.  Florid  offensive  to  you  ?  Most 
women  admire  him.  Don't  you  think  him  handsome  ?  " 

"  I  haven't  thought  any  thing  about  him.  It  is  speaking 
pretty  plainly  to  one's  face ;  but  since  Mrs.  Welman  sets 
the  example,  it  must  be  right.  I  always  feel,  when  Mr. 
Florid  is  by,  as  I  used  when  beautiful  Fido  was  in  the  room. 
You  remember  Fido  —  the  handsomest  wretch  of  a  dog  that 
ever  lived,  but  so  mischievous !  And  when  I  see  a  man 
externally  so  attractive,  and  know  that  he  perverts  those 
gifts,  and  makes  them  the  lure  to  insnare  susceptible  hearts, 
I  always  shun  him  and  his  influence  as  I  would  a  distemper. 
Mr.  Florid  will  pardon  me ;  but  I  have  some  odd  notions 
about  me,  which  even  the  example  of  Mrs.  Welman  can't 
quite  uproot." 

"  Ellen  is  ridiculously  fastidious,"  said  Mrs.  Welman,  as 
13 


146  HAGAR     THE     MARTYR. 

the  party  were  on  their  way  home ;  but  the  little  sprite 
had  pleased  her  stern  guardian,  and  in  an  hour  after,  she 
was  out  with  him  on  the  shell  road,  driving  a  pair  of  beau 
tiful  horses  which  it  required  all  her  strength  to  hold  in  and 
manage. 


CHAPTER    XIII. 

LAWKENCE,  THE  MESMERIST.  —  THE  ADVENTURE  AND  ITS  CON 
SEQUENCE. 

"AN  adventure!  an  adventure!"  laughed  blithe  Ellen 
Willard,  bursting  into  Hagar's  parlor  one  evening,  just  as 
the  sun  was  flooding  the  room  with  gold.  "With  both  hands 
she  held  up  the  skirts  of  a  riding  dress,  while  the  little 
janty  hat,  cocked  upon  a  bunch  of  crisp  curls,  made  her 
look  saucy  enough  to  fascinate  any  body  fond  of  the  pic 
turesque. 

"  "Well,  what  is  it  ? "  said  Hagar,  kissing  the  warm,  full 
lips,  while  she  disengaged  the  hat,  and  sent  her  servant  off 
with  it  to  her  chamber. 

"  Well,  what  is  it  ?  Yes,  I  guess  so ;  a  regular  romance, 
in  three  volumes.  You  see,  uncle  having  gone  to  New 
York,  and  mother  to  sleep,  there  was  nothing  left  for  me 
to  do  but  to  saddle  Noble,  and  take  a  turn  or  two  upon  the 
shell  road.  Well,  just  as  I  was  passing  the  Common,  some 
thing  startled  Noble,  and  away  he  went  like  a  flash  of  light 
ning.  The  fact  of  it  was,  I  had  lost  his  head,  though  I 
didn't  lose  my  own.  The  women  screamed,  and  the  chil 
dren  shouted,  and  the  men  —  well,  I  don't  know  what  they 

did,  for  just  then " 

(147) 


148  HAGAK     THE     MARTYR. 

"An  angel  descended  from  the  clouds,  I  suppose," 
laughed  Hagar. 

"  No ;  but  an  angel  of  a  man  descended  from  his  trotting 
sulky,  flung  himself  upon  Noble,  caught  me  in  his  arms, 
and  landed  us  both  in  the  softest  kind  of  mud.  Here's  a 
specimen  of  it,"  said  the  merry  girl,  holding  up  her  drag 
gled  riding  skirt. 

"  Were  you  hurt  at  all  ?  " 

"  Not  a  bit.  When  Noble  saw  how  ingloriously  he  had 
acted,  he  turned  short  of  his  own  accord,  and  came  back  to 
me.  My  preserver  —  don't  that  sound  romantic,  eh  ?  — 
my  preserver  gave  me  a  lift,  raised  his  splendid  great  eyes 
to  mine,  told  me  his  name,  and  asked  permission  to  call 
upon  me  here  this  evening." 

"And  you " 

"  0,  what  could  I  do  ?  He  had  saved  my  neck,  for  I 
suppose  that  would  have  been  the  end  of  me;  and  I 
couldn't  be  uncivil,  especially  when  he  told  me  he  was  a 
stranger  in  the  city  —  a  Mr.  Lawrence,  I  believe,  of  New 
York." 

"  Lawrence,  did  you  say  ?  —  what  Lawrence  ?  " 

"  That's  more  than  I  know.  I  couldn't  ask  many  ques 
tions  with  all  Charles  Street  gaping  at  me  as  if  I  was  a 
show  got  up  for  the  occasion.  I  only  know  he  was  hand 
some  as  a  picture  —  something  like  you;  that  is  to  say,  a 
handsome  likeness  of  you,  with  the  tiniest  bit  of  a  mus 
tache,  and  a  pair  of  eyes  that  —  Lord  bless  me ! " 

That  last  exclamation  was  the  result  of  a  sudden  encoun- 


HAG  All     THE     MARTYR.  149 

ter  of  that  pair  of  eyes  looking  at  her  with  a  very  quizzi 
cal  expression,  while  their  owner  was  evidently  waiting  an 
opportunity  for  explanation. 

"In  your  —  what  shall  I  call  it?  — not  an  accident  — 
which  gave  me  the  privilege  of  being  of  service  to  one  so 
beautiful,"  —  and  the  intruder  raised  his  hat  in  eloquent 
admiration,  —  "  you  dropped  this  bracelet,  which  it  was  my 
fortune  to  find;  and  I  have  made  it  an  excuse  for  this 
untimely  visit.  Am  I  forgiven  ?  " 

"What  could  she  do  ?  Stifling  her  incipient  embarrass 
ment,  she  gave  him  her  hand,  —  which,  by  the  by,  he  held 
quite  as  long  as  the  exigencies  of  the  case  demanded,  —  led 
him  up  to  Hagar,  and  gave  her  an  introduction. 

"Who  did  you  say  that  was?"  questioned  Mr.  Law 
rence,  as  Hagar  left  them  chattering  like  old  friends, 
instead  of  the  strangers  they  were  in  reality. 

"  Hagar  Martin.  You  must  have  heard  of  her.  Every 
body  knows  her,  by  reputation  at  least,  —  so  smart,  so 
keen,  so  witty,  —  quite  the  lionne,  I  can  tell  you,  in  Bos 
ton.  But  you  mustn't  fall  in  love  with  her ! " 

Mr.  Lawrence  blazed  his  eyes  upon  the  bright  face 
before  him,  as  if  it  would  be  rather  hard  to  fall  in  love 
with  any  thing  but  that.  A  blush  and  a  slight  hesitancy  in 
expression  showed  Ellen  to  be  not  altogether  unconscious 
of  the  tribute  to  her  charms ;  but  after  a  moment  she  rat 
tled  on  again. 

"Whoever  marries  Hagar  must  be  quite  a  superior 
person.  I  don't  think  she  would  care  any  thing  about 
13* 


150  HAGA.R      THE      MARTYR. 

beauty,  so  that  there  were  goodness  and  manliness  enough 
to  make  up  the  loss.  You  see  she  has  always  been  alone, 
as  it  were,  and  most  persons  think  her  haughty  and  proud ; 
but  she  isn't,  only  to  those  she  dislikes." 

"  I  hope  I  shall  never  come  under  the  range  of  her  dis 
pleasure." 

"  O  dear,  no !     She  will  like  you,  I  know." 

"  Why  do  you  think  so  ?  " 

"  I  saw  her  reading  your  face  while  we  were  talking ; 
and  I  know  she  was  pleased  with  it." 

"Why  so?" 

"  There  is  strength  in  it.  Hagar  likes  strength — -strong 
thoughts,  strong  acts,  strong  speeches.  These  are  what 
Hagar  likes,  and  these  she  read  in  your  face." 

11  And  you?" 

"If  O,  I  am  a  wilful,  wayward  little  thing.  I  like  to 
be  cared  for,  to  be  petted,  and  to  be  loved ;  at  least  I  sup 
pose  I  should.  But  if  I  loved  unworthily,  or  one  that 
couldn't  love  me  in  return,  why,  there  would  be  an  end  of 
it.  But  Hagar  /  let  her  love  once,  and  it  will  be  terribly 
in  earnest.  She  would  go  through  an  ocean  wild  with  the 
foam  of  a  thousand  thunder  clouds  to  serve  one  she  loved." 

"You  like  strong  terms,  too,  I  see." 

"  Yes ;  I've  caught  them  of  Hagar." 

"  I  shall  like  Hagar,  and,  I'm  afraid,  love  you." 

"  0,  there  is  no  danger  of  that  while  she  is  round  ;  and 
so  I  constantly  tell  uncle  Veazie,  when  he  objects  to  the 
persons  I  meet  here." 


HAGAR      THE      MARTYR.  151 

"  And  who  is  '  uncle  Veazie '  ?  " 

Ellen's  face  darkened  for  a  moment.  In  the  pleasure 
of  her  new  friend's  society  she  had  forgotten  that  he  would 
be  likely  to  object.  Lawrence  saw  the  cloud,  but  gave  her 
time  to  answer. 

"  O,  uncle  Veazie  is —  I  hardly  know  what  he  is.  A 
guardian,  I  believe  they  call  it;  a  tyrant,  I  think,  some 
times.  I  have  always  had  my  own  head  till  lately.  He 
draws  a  tight  rein.  That  reminds  me  I  was  charged  with 
abundance  of  orders  to  Hagar  about  my  morals,  manners, 
&c.  However,  having  forgotten  some,  I  may  as  well  make 
up  my  mind  not  to  remember  any  of  them." 

Lawrence  had  risen  to  go,  and  stood  leaning  against  the 
mantelpiece. 

"  Can't  you  adopt  me  for  an  uncle,  or  cousin,  or  some 
thing  ? "  he  questioned,  drawing  Ellen  towards  him  with  a 
premature  familiarity. 

"  I'm  afraid  that  would  be  dangerous,"  she  laughed. 

"  Something  nearer,  then." 

"  "We  have  known  each  other  scarce  an  hour." 

"  And  yet  it  seems  as  if  I  had  known  you  all  my  life." 

"  Hagar  is  returning ;  she  mustn't  hear  such  language." 

"  One  kiss,  then." 

"Cousinly?" 

"  Any  thing  you  please." 

He  drew  her  unresistingly  to  his  heart.  His  deep  eyes 
rained  down  their  light  into  her  own,  with  a  weird,  wild 


152  HAGAR     THE      MARTYR. 

influence  that  bore  off  all  self-control.  She  allowed  him 
to  draw  her  closely  to  his  heart,  to  press  her  lips  over  and 
over  again ;  nor  until  the  door  closed  upon  his  retreating 
form  did  she  awaken  from  the  trance  wrought  by  the  won 
derful  influence  of  Michael  Lawrence,  the  mesmerizer. 


CHAPTER    XIV. 

THE  UNWELCOME  VISITANT.  —  STARLIGHT'S  GRAVE. 

A  CHANGE  had  come  over  Hagar,  and  she  grew  paler  and 
thinner  than  ever.  She  wrote  more  powerfully  of  human 
passion  and  of  human  despair,  and  the  world  wondered  that 
an  intellect  like  hers  should  coin  its  music  into  passionate 
wailing.  Another  year  had  passed  —  a  year  that  had  made 
strange  havoc  with  her  health.  As  she  grew  into  notoriety, 
her  success  won  for  her  the  envy  and  petty  jealousy  of  a 
clique  of  scribblers,  who  determined,  in  their  own  grovel 
ling  spirits,  to  undermine  her  fame. 

"  It  is  too  bad ! "  said  she,  "  too  bad,"  as  she  clutched,  in 
nervous  haste,  a  paper  in  which  some  wounding  allusion  was 
made  to  the  mystery  of  her  young  life.  "  So  long  ago  —  so 
much  as  I  have  suffered,  and  in  all  these  years  to  have  the 
single  error  still  staring  me  in  the  face  —  still  striving  to 
drag  me  back  into  deeper  perdition.  0  God,  have  these 
men  hearts  ?  " 

The  cry  with  which  this  question  was  given  was  so  wild, 
so  despairing,  that  it  seemed  as  if  it  must  force  some  answer 
out  of  heaven.  0,  how  she  wished  the  past,  with  its  mad 
dening  memories,  could  be  swept  away  where  she  might 
never  hear  of  them  more  —  where  she  might  never  be 

(153) 


154  HAGAH      THE      MARTYR. 

reminded  that  in  this  bright,  sunny  world,  over  which  the 
blue  heaven  bends  so  smilingly,  there  were  hearts  so  cruel, 
so  unforgiving,  so  relentless,  that  common  charity  fled  from 
their  approach !  To  struggle  as  she  had  struggled  for  re 
demption,  to  atone  in  bitterness  of  spirit  as  she  had  tried  to 
atone,  and  then  to  have  the  hands  of  men  busy  in  seeking 
her  downfall,  O,  it  was  too  terrible  !  She  threw  up  the  win 
dow,  that  the  cool  air  might  fall  upon  her  heated  forehead  ; 
but  the  calm,  and  the  quiet,  and  the  holy'softness  of  evening 
brought  no  comfort  to  her.  "What  was  life,  if  man  was  less 
forgiving  than  his  Maker  ?  O,  you  who  follow  up  the  re 
pentant  Magdalen  with  insinuations  and  reproaches,  you 
who  bar  her  to  virtue's  path  by  every  conceivable  means 
that  malice  can  suggest,  remember  that  it  is  you,  and  not 
she,  that  will  be  called  upon  to  answer  her  guilt  before  the 
throne  of  Him  who  hath  said,  "  Neither  do  I  condemn 
thee." 

Hagar  still  clasped  the  fatal  paper  in  her  hands.  In  a 
moment  of  womanly  tenderness,  when  her  yearning  heart 
longed  most  for  some  answering  voice,  she  had  yielded  to 
the  passionate  entreaties  of  Walter,  and  they  were  again 
affianced.  In  the  fulness  of  her  joy,  she  had  closed-her  eyes, 
and  resolutely  refused  to  look  upon  the  consequences  which 
might  accrue  from  such  a  deceptive  step.  And  now,  Wal 
ter  must  know  it  —  must  hear  it  from  her  lips.  She  had 
not  long  to  wait.  A  ringing  step  was  bounding  through  the 
hall;  a  joyous  voice  was  breaking  up  the  silence,  while  Ha- 
gar'a  heart  was  shuddering  from  the  self-imposed  task. 


HAGAR      THE     MARTYR.  155 

"  Never  more,  Walter,"  said  she ;  "  never  more  ! "  and 
she  shrank  out  from  the  enclosure  of  his  protecting  arms. 

"  Why,  Hagar.,  what's  the  matter  ?  " 

"  Walter,  we  must  part.  You'll  hear  a  story  of —  some 
thing  wliich  may  be  true  or  false ;  but  whatever  it  is,  or 
however  you  may  shudder  away  from  me,  never  think  there 
has  been  love  in  my  heart  for  any  human  being  but  you ! 
Never  think  there  has  been  a  wish  that  you  did  not  share  ! " 

Dizzy  and  exhausted,  she  was  near  falling,  and  only  that 
his  arms  were  again  closing  around  her,  she  would  have 
sunk  to  the  floor. 

"  Hagar,  for  God's  sake " 

"  Don't  speak  to  me,  Walter ;  don't  touch  me  !  Walter, 
many  years  ago,  when  I  was  young  —  too  young  to  com 
prehend  the  enormity  of  it  —  I  sinned,  in  a  way  that  God 
sometimes  mercifully  forgives,  but  man  never " 

"  Hagar,  stop !     I'll  not  hear  it  from  you  !  " 

"  I  have  tried  to  outlive  this  blot,"  she  went  on,  growing 
paler  and  paler,  while  her  eager,  earnest  eyes  grew  yet  more 
lustrous  in  their  expression  ;  "  I  have  tried,  God  knows  how 
hard,  and  I  had  hoped  —  but  that  is  past  now ;  I  had  hoped 
to  pass  my  life  —  it  will  not  be  a  long  one  at  best  —  but  I 
had  hoped  to  pass  it  with  you.  It  is  impossible,  Walter  — 
you  understand  the  word  impossible.  0  my  God,  this  cup 
is  too,  too  bitter ;  I  cannot  bear  it ! "  and,  rushing  past  him, 
Hagar  flitted  like  a  spirit  up  the  stairs,  and  locked  herself 
into  her  room.  0,  how  cold  and  dreary  this  world  had  be 
come  to  her !  What  a  mockery  of  goodness  and  charity 
were  all  the  semblances  of  truth ! 


150  HAGAK      THE      MARTYR. 

"  What  is  the  matter  with  Hagar  ?  "  questioned  "Walter 
of  Anna  McVernon,  as  she  stepped  out  from  her  conceal 
ment  among  the  curtains.  I  need  not  premise  that  it  was 
her  hand  that  had  prepared  the  last  drop  of  poison  which 
had  imbittered  Hagar's  cup.  Month  after  month  she  had 
laid  watchful  and  incessant  siege  to  the  heart  and  hand  of 
Walter  Meadows.  In  vain  her  mother  ridiculed  and  paint 
ed,  in  strong  terms,  the  life  of  comparative  poverty  she 
would  necessarily  lead  with  him;  in  vain  contrasted  the 
splendor  of  McVernon's  establishment  —  the  beauty  of  his 
equipage,  the  costliness  of  his  furniture  —  with  the  possible 
"  parlor  and  bed  room  "  which  "Walter  would  have  to  offer 
She  loved  him  with  all  the  force  of  her  perverted  nature, 
To  secure  him,  there  was  no  crime  too  deep,  no  villany  too 
wily,  for  her  enacting.  But  Walter  was  a  true-hearted, 
honorable  man.  The  very  forwardness  of  her  overtures, 
and  her  open  and  undisguised  admiration  of  him,  only 
caused  him  to  avoid,  as  much  as  possible,  without  offending 
her.  At  length,  wearied  out  by  incessant  rebuff,  she  threw 
herself  away  upon  the  wealthy  old  man  who  bought  her,  as 
he  would  buy  any  article  of  adornment,  because  she  would 
add  grace  and  dignity  to  his  establishment.  But  even  that 
did  not  prevent  her  secret  designs  upon  the  heart,  at  least, 
of  Walter  Meadows. 

"  What  is  the  matter  with  Hagar  ?  "  again  questioned  the 
bewildered  man. 

"I  —  I  don't  know  !     Perhaps  this  note  can  explain  the 
mystery,"  said  she.  picking  up  a  crumpled  note  which  she 


HAGAR     THE     MARTYR.  157 

had  dropped  for  the  occasion,  unperceived  by  him.  To  see 
that  manly  brow  contract  as  with  a  sudden  pain  —  to  see 
those  sunny  eyes  cloud  over  with  indignation  and  dismay  — 
to  see  that  handsome  face  grow  flushed  and  pale  by  turns, 
and  the  healthful  form  droop  as  under  some  fearful  shock  — 
O,  any  heart,  but  the  one  seared  and  scarred  by  constant 
dissembling  like  hers  who  contemplated  this  scene,  would 
have  relented,  and  endeavored  to  retrieve  the  wrong  so 
surely  done.  Not  so  her's  !  There  was  a  malicious  pleasure, 
a  fiend-like  cruelty,  in  the  wild-beast  eyes  with  which  she 
took  in  the  amount  of  pain  inflicted. 

"  My  darling  Hagar,"  so  the  letter  ran,  "  how  can  I 
thank  you  enough  for  the  meeting  you  so  kindly  granted  ? 
In  all  the  years  that  have  passed,  you  have  been  my  heart's 
dream  —  my  worshipped  idol.  By  the  angel-spirit  of  our 
early-lost  '  starlight,'  I  conjure  you  to  see  me  once  more 
before  I  leave  the  city.  Only  once !  It  may  be  the  last 
time  of  asking,  and  surely  you  owe  me  that  gratification." 

"  Infamous  ! "  said  Walter,  crushing  the  letter  in  his  hand. 

"  I  knew ."  He  hesitated,  while  a  deeper  flush  stole 

up  over  his  fine  forehead.  No,  he  would  not  breathe  a  word 
against  her,  lost  and  depraved  as  she  was.  He  checked 
himself,  and  ran  his  eyes  once  more  over  the  cruel  lines.  It 
was  no  dream  ;  there  they  were,  cold,  cruel,  horrible.  And 
this,  then,  was  the  cause  of  her  agitation  ;  the  return  of  an 
old  lover,  and  —  the  —  only  one  she  had  loved. 

"  You  had  best  be  present  at  the  meeting,"  suggested  the 
woman-fiend.  The  meeting  !  He  had  not  noted  that.  He 
14 


158  HAGAR      THE     MARTYR. 

would  be  there.  He  would  confront  her  —  accuse  her  of 
falsehood  and  duplicity,  and  then — farewell  ambition,  love, 
hope,  every  thing  which  goes  to  make  up  the  life  of  a  man. 

The  meeting  was  to  be  at  the  house  of  Justice  A , 

a  singular  place,  he  thought,  for  an  assignation.  He  won 
dered  that  the  justice,  whom  he  had  ever  considered  an 
honorable  and  high-minded  man,  should  countenance  such  a 
thing!  But  if  Hagar  was  thus  guileful  and  treacherous, 
where  could  he  look  for  sincerity  ?  Taking  the  address,  he 
left  the  house,  and  wandered  away  miles  and  miles  into  the 
country. 

O  woman!  Fiend!  Smile  in  the  consciousness  of  your 
successful  scheme;  but  remember  there  is  an  eye  above 
you  who  counts  every  groan  you  have  forced  from  a  des 
olate  heart.  It  is  now  your  turn  to  triumph,  but  to-day  is 
-Iways. 


CHAPTER    XV. 

THE  UNWELCOME  VISITAST. 

HAGAR  locked  her  chamber  door,  and  threw  herself  in 
,  utter  prostration  upon  the  floor.  She  could  not  weep  — 
she  could  only  feel. 

"  Too  bad,  too  bad !  and  I  so  young  to  sin  !  "  was  her 
perpetual  moan.  The  sun  had  gone  down,  and  the  stars 
were  out  in  summer  brightness,  as  if  no  crime,  no  sorrow, 
no  despair  was  in  the  world  over  which  they  smiled.  The 
air  seemed  suffocating.  Hagar  rose,  and  gathering  a  light 
shawl  about  her,  ran  down  the  stairs  and  out  into  the  street, 
on  and  on,  through  crowds  of  laughing,  chattering  people  — - 
on  and  on,  across  streets  and  past  houses  where  happiness 
had  not  forgotten  to  dwell ;  on,  over  the  long,  cool  bridge, 
past  the  navy  yard,  past  the  prison  —  O,  even  its  inmates 
were  less  wretched  than  she  !  —  past  the  vine-wreathed 
cottages !  The  graveyard,  with  its  still,  white  marbles 
gleaming  in  the  moonlight,  lay  before  her.  O  for  strength 
to  reach  that  little  group  of  mounds,  shut  in  with  thin, 
whitewashed  palings !  0  for  God's  power  to  lie  down  to 
sleep  as  those  she  loved  were  sleeping  !  The  gate  is  cleared 
at  last,  and  with  a  sad,  pitiful  cry  —  a  cry  which  seemed  to 

(159) 


1 60  H  A  G  A  R      THE      MARTYR. 

say,  "  My  God  !  my  God !  why  hast  thou  forsaken  me  ?  "  — « 
she  flings  herself  by  the  senseless  stone,  her  long,  white 
arms  stretched  around  it,  with  her  face  pressed  to  the 
ground.  How  long  she  had  lain  there  it  is  impossible  to 
tell.  The  moon  was  high  in  the  heavens,  and  the  night 
wind  rose  and  fell  through  the  branches  of  the  tree  over 
her  head. 

"  O  that  I  had  died  with  thee,  my  child  !     O  that  I  had 

died  with  thee  ! "  she  moaned.     "  No  hope  !  no  light !     0, 

/ 
how  good  they  ought  to  be  who  can  afford  to  hunt  me  to 

my  rum !     My  child  !  my  child  ! " 

A  shadow  fell  over  her,  and  crossed  the  grave  upon 
which  she  had  flung  herself.  She  did  not  perceive  it,  but 
kept  on  murmuring,  — 

«  My  child  !  my  child  !  " 

"  And  mine  I  "  said  a  deep,  full  voice. 

He  spoke  —  that  new  comer  —  almost  in  a  whisper,  but 
it  seemed  in  the  awful  stillness  to  be  a  peal  of  doom,  rather 
than  a  voice.  She  unwound  her  arms  from  the  cold  stone, 
and  looked  up  through  the  moonlight  into  the  handsome 
face  bending  over  her.  It  must  be  a  dream  —  the  veiy 
nightmare  of  a  troubled  brain.  God  knew  if  she  had 
sinned  she  had  also  suffered.  Surely  the  Almighty,  in  his 
mercy,  would  not  inflict  so  horrible  a  punishment  upon  her ; 
or,  if  so,  why,  then  come  death. 

"  And  mine  !  " 

Again  that  sound  penetrated  to  her  ear  like  the  rushing 
of  many  waters.  She  could  not  be  mistaken.  He  was 


HA  GAR      THE      MARTYR.  161 

there,  bending  over  her,  breathing  into  her  ear ;  he,  that 
had  counselled  her  to  break  God's  holy  ordinance ;  he,  that 
had  taken  advantage  of  her  great  grief  to  make  her  the 
thing  she  abhorred.  He  was  there,  and  forever  and  for 
ever  all  was  most  surely  lost ! 

"  You  do  not  speak  to  me,  Hagar ! " 

"  What  can  I  say  to  you  ?  "  she  began,  while  her  face, 
which  had  flushed  at  the  sound  of  his  voice,  went  very  pale 
again.  "  What  can  I  say  to  you  ?  I  never  loved  you,  that 
you  knew ;  yet,  so  knowing,  you  led  me  into  temptation. 
You  loaded  my  young  life  with  shame  ;  you  made  me  abhor 
and  shrink  from  myself  as  from  some  polluted  thing  ;  you 
made  me  bear  with  me,  through  all  these  long  years,  a  hid 
den  stain ;  a  stain  that  has  eaten  into  my  soul ;  that  has 
cankered  my  best  impulses ;  that  has  risen  up  before  me 
at  all  times,  in  all  places,  under  all  circumstances,  till  I 
loathe  myself  for  the  crime  you  won  me  to  perpetrate." 

She  raised  her  wet,  mournful  eyes  to  his  face,  as  if  she 
would  read  there  some  retreat  from  the  horror  that  was 
pursuing  her. 

"  Hagar,  do  you  think  I  have  not  suffered  too  ?  " 

"  Tou  !  and  what  should  make  you  suffer  ?  Do  you  not 
know  it  was  a  laurel  in  your  crown  of  glory  ?  Do  you  not 
know  that  it  was  a  gem  in  the  setting  of  your  fame  ?  Harm 
less  pleasantries,  innocent  amusements,  trifling  inconsist 
encies,  when  a  man  tramples  upon  all  that  is  sacred  and 
holy  in  human  nature !  But  the  victim  !  what  for  her  ? 
The  averted  eye,  the  curling  lip,  the  crushing,  damning 
14* 


162  HAGAK     THE     MARTYR. 

sneer  !  O,  wonderM  world !  O,  discriminating  society ! 
Stamp  libertine  upon  the  brow  of  man,  and  it  is  the  magnet 
to  draw  all  womankind  fluttering  around  him,  like  moths 
around  a  flame ;  and  if  their  wings  do  get  scorched  by 
the  contact,  why,  woe,  woe  to  them-,  and  glory  to  him !  " 

Hagar  leaned  her  head  in  her  palms,  as  if  conversing 
rather  to  herself  than  to  him  who  listened. 

"  Hagar,  Hagar,  go  with  me  ;  be  my  wife.  The  future 
shall  repay  you  all  the  wrongs  of  the  past.  I  have  watched 
you  at  a  distance ;  I  have  seen  you  brave,  defiant,  scornful, 
and  felt  how  superior  you  were  to  those  who  would  cast 
you  off  like  a  poisoned  weed,  did  they  but  know  the  cir 
cumstances  of  your  life.  I  have  seen  you  goaded  on,  al 
most  to  madness,  by  the  arts  of  a  bold,  bad  woman,  and  I 
have  waited  the  right  moment  to  come  forward  and  save 
you.  Will  you  be  my  wife  ?  " 

"  No,  no !  it  cannot  be ;  it  is  impossible.  If  I  sinned 
then,  when  I  did  not  know,  as  I  know  now,  how  wicked  it 
was,  think  how  much  greater  would  be  the  sin  of  giving 
myself  to  you,  while  my  heart  is  full  of  its  wild  worship 
for  another !  Think  what  it  would  be  to  have  that  other 
face  always  coming  between  me  and  my  honor ;  between 
me  and  my  duty ;  between  me  and  every  thought  and  im 
pulse.  Think  what  it  has  been  to  have  that  other  face 
beaming  on  me,  and  I  not  able  to  look  up  to  it  in  inno 
cence  ;  and  what  it  would  be  to  feel  that  I  had  forever 
divorced  myself  from  its  sight ;  and  leave  me." 

There  waa  such  an  imploring,  wistful  look  in  the  speak- 


HAQAB     THE     MARTYR.  163 

er's  eyes,  that  the  man  of  the  world  was  subdued  —  awed 
into  obedience ;  and  taking  her  passive  hand,  which  she 
neither  gave  or  withheld,  he  imprinted  a  kiss  upon  it,  and 
hurriedly  walked  away.  Hagar  watched  the  last  trace  of 
the  shadow,  even  till  only  the  crackling  echo  of  a  distant 
footfall  came  back  upon  her;  then  nerveless,  hopeless,  aim 
less,  she  closed  her  eyes,  and  drooped  in  utter  unconscious 
ness  upon  the  grave  by  which  he  had  left  her. 


•'*  CHAPTER    XVI. 

THE  CHRISTIAN  MENIAL. 

WHEN  she  awoke,  the  morning  sun  was  shining  full,  and 
bright  upon  her  pillow.  She  had  no  consciousness  of  re 
turning  ;  no  consciousness  of  any  thing  but  a  dull,  heavy 
sensation  about  her  heart,  such  as  might  have  been  the 
remnant  of  a  bad  dream.  She  rose  to  dress  herself,  but 
was  too  weak  to  make  the  requisite  exertion.  She  rang 
the  bell,  and  Meggy,  pale  and  worn  with  watching,  came 
out  from  among  the  curtains. 

"  What  has  happened  ?  "  questioned  Hagar. 

"  Where  did  you  wander  to  last  night,  lass  ?  A  gentle 
man —  he  was  &  gentleman,  too  —  brought  you  home  in 
his  arms,  and  took  you  up  stairs,  0>  so  gently.  O,  darling, 
such  sighs  and  such  sobs  !  It  isn't  much  when  other  women 
cry,  but  when  you  sob,  it  is  enough  to  break  one's  heart  — 

it  is  !  " 
^i 

"  Hush,  Meg,  hush !  Was  any  one  here  when  I 
came  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  Walter  was  just  going  out.  He  looked  at  you, 
and  he  looked  at  the  man,  and  he  scudded  away  as  if  he'd 
seen  a  ghost,  instead  of  a  handsome,  beautisome  gentle 
man!" 

(164) 


.    HAGAR     THE     MARTYR.  165 

"  That  will  do,  Meg.     You  needn't  wait." 

"  I  didn't  think  it  was  very  pretty  of  Walter  not  to  stop 
long  enough  to  see  if  you  was  alive  or  dead." 

"  Walter  was  right,  Meg.  Fate-  has  done  its  worst.  0, 
it  was  so  wrong  to  deceive  him.  It  was  so  wrong  to  suffer 
him  to  love  me.  He  will  cast  me  off;  they  will  all  cast 
me  off ;  Meg,  all  —  all ;  "  and  Hagar  burst  into  a  passion 
ate  flood  of  tears. 

"  I  won't  cast  you  off,  darling.  I  didn't  cast  you  off  when 
I  knew  all  about  it ;  the  sin,  and  the  suffering,  and  all.  O, 
my  love  mayn't  be  like  the  love  of  them  as  has  book  larn- 
in'  to  teach  'em,  but  it  began  in  your  cradle,  and  will  only  J 
end  when  they  bury  my  heart  in  your  grave."  And  the  old 
faithful  creature  clung  kneeling  to  the  feet  of  her  mis 
tress. 

In  that  moment  all  difference  in  position  was  forgotten. 
Hagar  stooped  over  and  drew  the  old  gray  head  up  to  her 
heart,  kissed  the  worn,  wrinkled  face  over  and  over  again, 
crying  all  the  while  as  if  her  very  nature  was  dissolved. 
,  "  Don't,  Hagar,  don'tee,"  whimpered  the  faithful  nurse. 
"  I  don't  know  much  ways  to  comfort  any  body,  but  I  have 
heard  an  old  minister  say, '  When  the  world  forsakes  us, 
then  the  Lord  will  take  us  up.'  And  you,  poor  innocent 
lamb  that  you  were,  how  could  you  know  what  dreadful 
deed  you  was  doing  ?  " 

"  That  is  no  excuse,  Meg ;  no  excuse  for  me  at  all.  I 
ought  to  have  buried  myself  in  the  depths  of  the  ocean, 
before  ever  joining  in  with  the  untainted  and  the  pure.  I 


166  HAGAR     THE     MARTYR,      j 

ought  to  have  died  before  I  had  ever  shown  my  face  in  the 
world  again.     I  ought  —  I  ought.     O,  I  wish  I  had  I " 

"  I'm  astonished !  "  said  Meg,  changing  her  tactics,  and 
giving  her  charge  a  little  petulant  shake.  "  I'm  astonished 
to  see  you  take  on  so.  Why,  when  you  first  came  home 
with  a  puny  little  baby  on  your  arm,  you  didn't  take  on 
after  this  fashion.  Where's  the  one  of  them  that's  so  good, 
or  so  kind,  or  so  charitable  as  you  are  ?  Where's  the  one 
of  them  as  hasn't  fell,  that's  fit  to  hold  a  candle  to  you  in 
point  of  goodness  ?  Let  them  cast  you  off,  say  I,  if  they 
dare  to,  and  see  what  our  heavenly  Father  will  say  to  them, 
•When  their  turn  comes  !  Wonderful  pretty,  indeed,  if  peo 
ple  are  to  lie  and  cheat,  and  scandalize  their  neighbors,  and 
pass  through  the  world  with  heads  as  high  as  Hamer's,  as 
the  Bible  tells  of,  while  you,  who  have  injured  nobody  but 
yourself,  and  who  have  repented  and  repented  until  there 
is  nothing  more  to  repent  of,  must  shrink  into  nothingness 
and  be  cast  off!  I  only  wish  I  was  a  prophetess,  for  their 
sakes.  I'd  tell  them  that  God  never  made  one  human  a 
judge  of  another ;  that  he  never  intended  one  human  should 
trample  another  into  the  hopeless  dust  of  misery ;  and  that 
there  are  thousands  of  sore,  bleeding,  penitent  hearts,  here 
on  earth,  that  will  rise  up  in  the  day  of  judgment  against 
them  who  barred  up  their  road  to  repentance,  and  say, 
'  But  for  you,  and  for  you,  and  for  you,  I  might  have  been 
saved.'  God  help  me !  but  I  wouldn't  be  the  one  to  put 
between  a  fallen  woman  and  her  way  to  atonement ;  no, 
*jot  for  all  the  diamonds  in  Golgander's  mines." 


HAGAE     THE     MARTYR.  167 

She  probably  meant  Golconda's  mines,  but  as  her  matter 
of  speech  was  better  than  her  manner  of  speaking,  Hagar 
did  not  think  it  worth  while  to  correct  her. 

"  Come,  cheer  up,  honey,"  she  went  on,  smoothing  out 
the  tangled  curls,  that  defied  any  thing  like  proper  training. 
"  Cheer  up ;  the  worst  can  but  come  to  the  worst.  You 
can  write  all  around  them,  and  when  you  are  dead  they  will 
print  your  book,  and  get  a  monument  for  you,  and  be  sorry 
that  they  hunted  the  life  out  of  you ;  so  they  will ;  that  will 
be  a  treat,  won't  it,  pet  ?  " 

Whether  it  was  Meg's  rude,  homely  speech  that  cheered 
the  mourning  girl,  or  whether  it  was  that  her  tears  were  all 
spent,  I  do  not  know ;  but  certainly  an  expression  of  her 
old  defiant  nature  stole  over  her  face,  and  she  rose  calm, 
collected,  and  almost  as  determined  in  her  strength  as  she 
had  been  before  the  accursed  paper  which  sounded  her 
doom  had  fallen  into  her  hands.  All  that  day  she  spent  in 
writing ;  not  for  publication,  but,  I  think,  though  the  papers 
were  afterwards  destroyed,  they  were  in  part  confessions, 
and  acknowledgments,  and  words  of  love,  to  be  opened  only 
after  she  had  ceased  to  be. 

From  that  time  there  seemed  to  be  a  presentiment  of 
coming  death.  Not  that  she  contemplated  self-destruction ; 
her  naturally  pure  and  good  impulses  would  have  shrunk 
away  from  such  an  idea.  If  she  had  sinned,  she  could 
bear  to  suffer  till  God  saw  fit  in  his  mercy  to  prepare  her 
bed  and  take  her  home.  That  day,  fortunately  for  her, 
several  letters  came  to  her  from  unknown  sources,  each  one 


168  HAGAR     THE     MARTYR. 

containing  some  sentiment  of  the  affection  her  writings'  had 
inspired.  That  was  no  unusual  thing,  and  these  tokens  had 
done  much  towards  convincing  her  that  she  was  not  alto 
gether  unworthy  of  "Walter ;  but  to-day  they  were  especial 
ly  acceptable.  She  wrote  to  Walter,  entreating  him  to 
come ;  and  it  was  in  answer  to  this  solicitation  that  the 
scene  described  in  my  prologue  occurred.  Her  nature, 
as  I  have  said,  was  strangely  wild  and  tempestuous.  She 
thought  if  she  could  only  see  him  she  could  school  her 
heart  to  take  a  final  leave.  He  came,  as  I  wrote  before, 
and, 'not  knowing  the  treachery  of  Anna  McVernon,  his 
strange  coldness  overwhelmed  her.  She  pleaded  with  him, 
and  was  repulsed.  Had  he  asked  for  an  explanation,  all 
would  have  been  well.  He  did  not,  but  took  for  granted 
what  her  evil  genius  had  insinuated.  When  she  arose  from 
his  door,  after  following  him  home,  it  was  with  a  will  and  a 
resolution,  which,  defiant  of  consequences,  she  had  deter 
mined  to  effect.  Could  Anna  have  read  her  heart  at  that 
moment,  she  would  have  fled  from  the  coming  storm.  "  At 
Mrs.  Welman's  party ;  at  Mrs.  Welman's  party."  That 
was  the  object  to  be  gained;  that  was  the  point  to  be 
arrived  at.  Till  then  she  would  be  patient;  she  would 
bear  to  suffer,  and  then  her  life's  duty  would  have  been 
done. 


CHAPTER    XVII. 

RETRIBUTION. 
WALTER  sat  and  read :  — 

One  who  has  loved  you  immeasurably,  one  who  has 
echoed  your  sighs  and  suffered  with  your  suffering,  im 
plores  an  interview.  I  shall  be  at  home  to  no  one  but  you 
this  evening.  Will  you  come,  and  forgive  the  desperate 
impulse  which  counsels  this  step  ?  ANNA. 

Walter  crushed  the  letter  in  his  hand  and  —  thought. 
Time  had  been  when  such  an  unwomanly  invitation  would 
have  been  met  by  open  scorn ;  but  now  he  was  suffering. 
He  wanted  some  woman's  consolation,  some  woman's  affec 
tion.  He  wanted  to  lay  his  throbbing  head  upon  some 
woman's  breast,  and  there  learn  the  secret  of  the  great 
calm  and  peace  which  he  read  in  the  eyes  and  on  the  lips 
of  all  around  him.  He  wanted  the  thrill  of  some  woman's 
soft  hand  to  mesmerize  away  the  throbbing  of  his  brain 
And  he  went ! 

Leaving  him  time  to  travel  the  distance  of  three  squares, 
I  have  a  word  to  say  of  Walter  in  general  and  his  never- 
do-wrong  set  in  particular. 
15 


170  HAGAR     THE      MARTTK. 

Walter  was  a  thorough  man  of  the  world ;  a  man  whose 
natural  instincts  had  been  moulded  in  that  fastest  of  all 
fast  schools  of  nature  —  New  York.  "Love  is  possession" 
had  been*  his  war  cry  on  Love's  battle  ground,  while  his 
experience  told  him  possession  is  death  to  love ;  and  yet, 
with  all  his  heart  and  soul,  with  every  impulse  of  his  some 
what  vacillating  nature,  he  loved  Hagar.  The  idea  of  her 
delinquency  froze  his  blood  to  ice.  It  was  nothing  that, 
like  his  sex's  prototype,  the  butterfly,  he  had  drifted  from 
Up  to  lip,  from  flower  to  flower,  till  passion  had  lost  its 
freshness,  and  possession  its  power ;  but  her  he  loved  must 
bring  to  his  treasury  the  purest  dew  upon  the  flower  of 
affection.  Deception  !  that  was  what  he  shrank  from.  To 
be  sold  by  a  woman !  O,  that  was  too  much  of  a  good 
thing !  And  now  for  the  characteristic  of  the  sex.  Men, 
in  their  vain-glorious  pride,  arrogate  to  themselves  the 
title  of  "  lords  of  creation ; "  there  is  not  so  easy  and 
confiding  a  dupe  in  all  that  creation  they  lord  it  over  as 
what  is  termed  a  Haze  man  of  the  world.  I  don't  mean 

• 

the  class  of  silly  simpletons  that  Nature  sent  on  to  the 
earth  especially  to  become  footballs  for  coquettes,  but  of 
that  wise  set  of  creatures  who  sleep  with  one  eye  open  on 
society  ;  who  will  rattle  you  off  a  string  of  maxims  as  long 
as  the  moral  law  about  the  inconstancy  and  untruth  of 
women ;  "  fast  livers,"  who  crowd  ten  years  of  common 
existence  into  one,  and  who  would  be  greatly  amused  at 
the  idea  of  any  woman  trapping  them.  Why,  at  the  very 
moment  that  they  curl  their  lips  in  haughty  disdain,  and 


HAGAR     THE     MARTYR.  171 

dare  a  woman  to  deceive  them,  they  are  putting  their  feet 
into  snares  which  a  blind  man  might  see.  And  so  it  was 
with  Walter.  If  he  had  taken  as  much  thought,  or  reposed 
as  much  confidence  in  Hagar's  integrity  as  he  did  in  that 
of  Anna  McVernon,  much  sorrow  to  both  would  have  been 
spared.  Ah,  well !  some  lessons  are  worth  learning,  though 
they  are  learned  in  sorrow. 

Standing  before  a  superb  mirror,  a  woman  gloriously 
beautiful  was  drinking  in  the  admiration  of  her  own  volup 
tuous  charms.  A  robe  of  India  muslin,  thrown  open  from 
the  throat  and  gathered  at  the  waist,  covered,  but  did  not 
conceal,  the  swelling  proportions  of  a  luxurious  bust.  If 
coquettish  women  only  knew  how  much  repose  there  is  in 
those  soft,  thin  muslins,  no  other  material  would  intrude 
upon  an  in-door  costume.  I  have  known  more  men  to  lose 
their  —  heart,  I  had  nearly  written,  but  as  there  is  a  ques 
tion  in  my  mind  whether  it  was  not  the  heart  instead  of  the 
rib  that  was  beguiled  from  Adam,  1  revoke,  and  write  head; 
I  have  known  more  men  to  lose  their  head  at  sight  of  these 
hazy,  cool,  delicious  toilets  than  from  the  effect  of  the 
rarest  magnificence  of  costume.  Their  presence  is  as 
soothing  as  a  narcotic,  as  bewildering  as  a  dream,  and  as 
fascinating  as  a  —  a  —  I  don't  know  any  simile  to  fill  up 
the  sentence.  Anna  McVernon  knew  what  she  was  about ; 
let  her  alone  for  that.  She  had  played  her  card  too  well 
to  lose  the  game  now.  Had  "Walter's  heart  yielded  at  her 
first  onset  it  would  have  lost  half  its  value.  Anna  was 
none  of  your  common  intrigants.  There  was  an  intense 


172  HAGAR     THE     MARTYR. 

excitement,  a  bewildering  joy,  in  following  up  a  flirtation 
till  her  own  heart  was  caught  in  the  rebound. 

"  Take  care  of  her,"  whispered  Florid.  "  She  plays  a 
bold  hand.  Gorden  broke  his  heart  for  her,  and  he  will 
cut  his  throat  if  he  sees  you  with  her." 

"Walter  smiled  with  an  air  of  provoking  coolness. 

"  And  as  for  him,"  said  Florid,  "  he  is  as  good  as  mar 
ried.  He  hasn't  a  thought  for  any  thing  but  Miss  Martin." 

That  was  enough  said.  Another  woman  loved  him ; 
from  that  moment  she  determined  that  he  should  wear  her 
chains.  More  men  than  Walter  Meadows  have  owed  a 
most  inexplicable  success  to  the  knowledge  of  being  beloved 
by  another  woman.  It  is  a  singular  anomaly  of  human 
nature  that  no  heart  is  so  valuable  as  when  belonging  to  a 
third  party.  I  have  heard  women  say  there  was  no  pleas 
ure  in  conquest  unless  they  were  ousting  some  one  else. 
If  I  thought  any  such  blood  as  that  ran  in  my  composition, 
I  would  let  it  out  and  fill  my  veins  with  milk  and  water  as 
a  more  worthy  substitute.  But  there  is  little  honesty  of 
purpose  in  this  rare  old  world  of  ours.  One  man's  mistress 
is  every  man's  target,  and  one  woman's  lover  is  the  prop 
erty  of  every  woman  who  chooses  to  try  the  strength  of 
her  fascination.  But  this  is  an  unnecessary  interpolation. 
The  world  can  "  gang  its  gait,"  for  all  I  care.  No  one 
should  meddle  with  love  that  wants  peace  ;  and  so  —  had  I 
been  in  their  confidence  sooner  —  would  I  have  told  the 
whole  party  who  were  playing  at  such  cross  purposes. 

A  ring  at  the  door  startled  Anna  from  her  pretty  con- 


HAGAB     THE     MARTYK.  173 

templation,  and  flung  her  down  in  a  most  studied  and  grace 
ful  attitude  upon  the  luxuriant  lounge.  One  hand  was 
thrown  carelessly  above  her  head,  while  the  other  listlessly 
toyed  with  the  long  silken  ears  of  a  rare  King  Charles 
spaniel  that  crouched  by  her  side. 

As  the  door  opened  she  started  in  pretty  perturbation, 
and,  rising,  gave  her  hand  timidly  and  with  an  excess  of 
confusion  to  the  young  and  handsome  visitor  whose  pres 
ence  she  had  solicited. 

"Mr.  Meadows — Walter  —  do  you  despise  me  —  do 
you  ?  O,  speak  to  me  !  say  something !  break  this  horrible 
spell !  I  thought  I  could  explain  why  I  had  sent  for  you 
without  compromising  myself  as  a  woman  —  myself  as  a 
wife ;  but,  by  Heaven,  I  cannot ! " 

Anna  trembled  from  head  to  foot,  and  would  have  fallen 
but  that  the  arm  of  Walter  enclosed  her  voluptuous  form. 
She  had  counted  too  much  upon  her  own  strength,  upon 
her  own  morality ;  or  rather  upon  that  policy  of  purpose 
which  throughout  her  life  had  passed  for  morality.  "  Thus 
far  shalt  thou  go,  and  no  farther,"  had  been  the  text  laid 
down  for  her  passionate  impulses ;  but  now  the  boundary 
was  passed,  and  upward  and  onward,  sweeping  over  every 
other  thought,  came  the  flood  of  impetuous  excitement.  It 
was  a  moment  alike  dangerous  to  the  peace  of  both:  With 
her  form  still  cradled  upon  his  bosom,  he  had  sunk  down 
upon  the  lounge  from  which  she  had  risen  on  his  entrance. 
Her  beautiful  arms  had  crept  up  over  his  shoulders,  and 
were  folded  lovingly  around  his  neck.  Her  sweet  breath, 
15* 


174  HAGAK     THE     MAKTYR. 

coming  in  quick,  heavy  gasps,  stirred  the  soft  curls  that 
shaded  his  noble  brow.  Her  warm,  full  lips,  parted  just 
enough  to  reveal  a  set  of  pure  and  pearly  teeth,  seemed 
wooing  him  to  their  clasp ;  her  white,  womanly  bosom,  just 
rising  into  view  over  the  folds  of  muslin,  rose  and  fell  with 
the  tumultuous  heavings  of  the  heart  beneath  it. 

"  I  do  love  you  so !  I  do  love  you  so ! "  were  the  sounds 
which  from  tune  to  time  fell  upon  Walter's  listening  ear,  as 
closer,  nearer,  and  with  greater  abandon,  she  yielded  to  the 
intoxication  of  his  embrace.  The  statue  had  warmed  into 
life ;  the  marble  heart  had  grown  wild  with  its  passionate 
fire.  O,  man.!  man !  when  will  you  appreciate  that  entire 
sacrifice  of  self  which  the  woman  who  loves  you  ever 
yearns  to  make?  There  might  come  moments  of  great 
agony  yet,  following  in.  the  wake  of  that  one  triumph  hour ; 
but  to  make  him  happy,  if  only  for  a  moment  —  to  make 
him  forget  the  outer  world  of  disappointment  and  sorrow, 
if  the  next  moment  gave  her  eternal  remorse,  —  that  was 
the  passion  cry  of  her  tumultuous  heart  —  that  was  the 
only  thought  which  reached  her  dizzy  brain.  To  be  his, 
if  the  next  moment  saw  her  a  corpse  at  his  feet — to  be  his, 
if  it  stained  her  after  years  with  hideous  deformity  —  to  be 
his,  if  she  could  know  —  could  be  sure  of  it  —  that  that 
moment  would  stamp  "  unpardonable  sin  "  against  her  upon 
"the  scroll  of  doom!  There  was  nothing  left  of  the  cold, 
wily  woman  of  the  world  but  a  mass  of  dangerous  passion, 
of  delirious  idolatry.  Her  only  idea  was  that  his  arms 
were  clasping  her ;  her  only  prayer  that  he  might  owe  to 


HAGAK     THE     MAKTYR.  175 

her  instrumentality  one  moment  of  entire  happiness  —  a 
prayer  which,  cruel  and  heartless  as  she  had  been  to  others, 
the  Almighty  was  too  merciful  to  grant. 

Walter  still  held  her  in  his  embrace,  though  conscience 
told  him  of  an  irreparable  wrong ;  still  listened  to  her  pas 
sionate  words,  although  his  own  heart  could  not  reciprocate ; 
still  suffered  himself  to  be  beloved,  though  he  knew  the 
flame  was  feeding  upon  the  very  lifestrings  of  the  infatu 
ated  woman. 

"/  do  love  you  so!"  she  murmured,  pressing  her  moist 
and  dewy  lips  passionately  upon  Walter's.  "  I  thought  the 
icy  barrier  of  pride  which  has  shielded  would  still  save  me ; 
but  you  are  here,  and  I  have  forgotten  every  thing  that  I 
ought  most  to  remember !  It  is  no  new  dream,"  she  went 
on,  sadly,  "  no  new  dream,  but  a  lifelong  love ;  and  when  I 
have  seen  you  wasting  your  wealth  of  heart  where  it  was 
unreturned  —  and  when  I  have  looked  into  your  noble  face 

as  I  do  now "  Here  the  great,  glorious  eyes  met  his 

with  such  an  audacious,  maddening  glance,  that  what  had 
been  of  conscientious  scruple  melted  beneath  the  fierce 
flame  of  lawless  passion. 

"  I  WILL  love  you,  Anna ! "  he  exclaimed ;  "  I  will  for 
get  every  thing  but  you  —  my  glorious  eagle,  my  beauti 
ful  —  "  ruin  he  ought  to  have  added ;  but  just  then,  when 
her  utter  abandon  had  sent  the  blood  coursing  h'ke  fire 
through  his  veins,  when  his  eyes  were  filling  up  with  lus 
trous  brightness,  at  that  turning  point  in  human  nature 
where  the  sublimity  of  manhood  is  overshadowed  by  ani- 


176  H  A  G  A  R     THE      MARTYR. 

mal  grossness,  a  step  was  heard  in  the  hall,  and  a  servant 
made  his  appearance  at  the  door. 

"  Mr.  McVernon  desires  your  presence  in  your  dressing 
room." 

Had  a  thunderbolt  fallen  at  her  feet  she  could  not  have 
been  more  thoroughly  startled. 

"  How  long  has  he  been  at  home  ?  "  she  questioned. 

"  An  hour  or  so,  I  believe ;  he  sat  on  the  balcony  for 
some  time,  knowing  that  you  had  company." 

"  Treacherous  balcony !  cruel  chance ! " 

The  lounge  upon  which  they  were  sitting  was  against 
the  window,  and  he  must  have  heard  all  —  all!  Ah, 
woman — Jiend!  it  is  a  long  lane  that  has  no  turning;  your 
turn  is  coming.  Perhaps  you  will  have  occasion  to  remem 
ber  wrongs  done  to  one  whose  only  harm  to  you  was  in 
daring  to  love  where  you  had  cast  your  eyes. 

Every  vestige  of  passion,  every  remnant  of  tenderness, 
every  trace  of  emotion,  vanished  from  the  heart  of  Anna, 
while  her  old  selfishness  and  fear  of  detection  usurped 
their  place. 

"  An  eclaircissement  is  sure  ;  you  must  protect  me,"  said 
she,  looking  wildly  up  into  Walter's  face. 

"  Prove  to  me  that  Hagar  is  false,  and  I  am  yours  eter 
nally." 

"  I  will,  at  the  party  to-morrow  night."  I  can  gain  that 
much  reprieve,  she  thought,  if  matters  are  really  as  bad  as 
1  apprehend. 

Anna  summoned  up  all  the  impudence  and  confidence  it 


HAGAR     THE     MARTYR.  177 

was  possible  to  command,  and  proceeded  to  meet  her  hus 
band. 

McVernon  was  a  gross,  sensual-looking  man,  of  about 
forty-five  years  of  age,  upon  whose  face  the  ravages  of  a 
dissipated  life  were  deeply  ingrained.  Having  been  a  dis 
sipated  debauchee  himself,  he  was  prepared  to  put  the 
worst  construction  upon,  and  treat  with  the  least  delicacy, 
any  thing  approaching  to  infidelity  in  others.  He  was  the 
leader  of  that  class  of  pests  who  can  never  see  a  man  and 
woman  in  conversation  without  shrugging  his  shoulders 
with  a  knowing  leer,  as  much  as  to  say,  "  Oho !  sets  the 
wind  in  that  quarter  ?  "  He  had  mingled  with  the  lowest 
class  of  women  until  his  respect  for  the  sex  was  limited 
and  distorted.  Anna  Welman  had  been  admired  for  her 
"  good  points "  in  a  physical  sense,  as  he  would  have 
admired  a  fine  horse  or  a  noble  dog.  He  first  saw  her  at 
the  Cambridge  races,  looking  down  with  flashing  eyes  and 
flushed  cheeks  upon  the  close  contest  between  two  favorite 
trotters.  He  saw  her  from  the  judges'  stand,  leaning  like 
a  statue  upon  the  railing,  her  eyes  following  the  horses;  and 
from  that  moment  he  saw  nothing  else.  In  vain  Goodwin 
trotted  his  beautiful  Charmer  backward  and  forward  past 
the  stand ;  even  his  skilful  driving,  which  had  heretofore 
been  an  admiration  point  with  McVernon,  passed  for  noth 
ing.  He  chattered  incoherently,  betted  at  random,  took  all 
the  odds  any  one  chose  to  offer,  and  cared  just  three  straws 
whether  he  lost  or  won.  Just  then  a  shrill  cry  of  horror 


178  HAGAR     THE     MARTYR. 

and  dismay  startled  the  echoes  with  its  force.  The  sulky 
containing  one  of  the  drivers,  by  mismanagement  or  design, 
had  been  run  into,  and  horse,  wheels,  vehicle,  and  driver 
were  all  mingled  in  a  tangled  mass.  Pale  as  marble,  Anna 
flew  out  of  the  balcony,  down  the  stairs,  and  out  into  the 
thickest  of  the  excitement.  While  the  men  were  talking, 
she,  by  some  process  unknown  to  herself  even,  disentan 
gled  the  horse,  gathered  the  broken  pieces  of  wheels  from 
about  the  wounded  driver,  clasped  him  convulsively  to  her 
heart,  and  fainted  in  his  arms.  Whether  the  handsome, 
manly  little  fellow  who  thus  became  openly  the  recipient 
of  her  sympathies  was  known  to  her  it  was  impossible  to 
say.  His  eyes  said  yes ;  his  lips  said  no.  If  his  lips  told 
the  truth,  he  had  hard  luck,  for  no  one  believed  him.  In 
the  distance,  Mrs.  Welman  looked  on  hi  utter  astonishment. 
McVernon  raised  the  fainting  girl  in  his  arms,  too  glad  of 
the  chance  to  find  fault  with  the  means,  and  bore  her  into 
the  house.  Mrs.  Welman,  knowing  his  antecedents,  as 
indeed  she  did  those  of  every  person  of  note,  warmly 
thanked  him,  and  accepted  his  escort  home.  It  was  a  long 
time  before  people  knew  why  Mrs.  Welman  ceased  to 
countenance  the  track,  or  why  Anna  blushed  so  deeply 
whenever  her  mother  would  allude  to  "Mr.  —  Mr.  —  I 
never  can  remember  that  fellow's  name  —  he  that  you  got 
up  such  an  amusing  scene  about,  Anna." 

That  same  "Mr. — Mr. — ,"  whose   name   her   mother 
never  could  think   of,  would  have  been  a  pretty  severe 


HAGAR     THE     MARTYR.  179 

thorn  in  the  pride  of  the  Welmans,  but  for  the  ridicule 
which  was  the  sharpest  weapon  her  mother  could  use 
against  her. 

Passion  once  sated,  and  McVernon  tired  of  his  beauti 
ful  wife.  Another,  younger  and  fairer,  had  taken  his 
senses  by  storm,  and  he  was  determined  to  rid  himself  of 
Anna.  Here  was  the  chance  he  had  been  longing  for,  and 
he  was  too  coarse  to  care  for  the  scandal,  too  indelicate  to 
heed  the  wagging  of  that  world's  tongue  which  such  an 
expose  would  set  going. 

"  Well,"  said  he,  as  his  wife  stood  calmly  before  him, 
"  what  excuse  have  you  for  such  conduct,  madam  ?  " 

"  Such  as  what  ?  "  questioned  Anna,  quietly. 

"  Such  as  lying  in  your  lover's  arms,"  retorted  he,  try 
ing  to  look  as  grave  as  possible,  considering  his  joy  at  the 
discovery.  "  Don't  attempt  to  deny  it ;  don't  try  to  exon 
erate  yourself.  I  saw  it  with  my  own  eyes  —  my  own 
eyes  —  and  you  will  allow  me  to  believe  them,  I  hope." 

"  And  who  else  saw  me  ?  "  she  questioned. 

"  Nobody.  Wasn't  it  enough  that  I  should  see  it  ?  If  I 
had  cared  any  thing  about  it,  I  would  have  murdered  the 
pair  of  you ;  but  I  don't.  All  I  want  is  a  divorce.  With 
such  a  husband  as  I  am,  I  don't  see  how  you  could  take  up 
with  that  Meadows." 

Anna  laughed  a  long,  low  laugh. 

"  That's  right  ;•  that's  right ;  add  insult  to  injury.  I  was 
going  to  portion  you  off  with  enough  to  keep  you  from 
starving,  for  the  sake  of  what  the  world  might  say;  but 


180  HAGAR     THE      MARTYR. 

now  you  may  whistle  for  your  bread  and  butter,  for  all  I 
care." 

"You  horrible  old  villain!  you  detestable  old  night 
mare  ! "  exclaimed  Anna,  furious  with  passion. 

"Don't  stop;  go  on.  Any  thing  more  that's  pleasant? 
You  won't  have  long  to  rave ;  and  when  I'm  rid  of  you  I'll 
marry  again ;  do  you  hear  that  ?  Your  detested  old  night 
mare  can  get  your  betters,  my  beauty.  Understand  that  ?  " 

"Yes;  and  when  you  tire  of  her,  you'll  will  her  to 
Charlestown  bridge!  and  if  she  happens  to  fall  over  — 
accidentally,  you  know  —  why " 

McVernon  turned  pale,  then  livid,  and  then,  with  a  loud 
scream,  fell  down  at  his  length  on  the  floor.  Anna  rang 
the  bell,  her  eyes  glistening  with  ferocious  joy,  and  ordered 
the  servants  to  convey  their  master  to  his  room.  The 
usual  restoratives  were  resorted  to,  and,  when  conscious 
ness  returned,  as  Anna  bent  over  him  with  apparently  ten 
der  solicitude,  she  murmured  in  his  ear,  "Another  word 
about  Walter,  or  the  divorce,  and  take  the  chances  of 
another  fainting  fit ! " 

"Mother  knew  that  woman  was  telling  the  truth,"  she 
muttered  to  herself,  as  she  went  out  slowly  to  receive  some 
visitors. 


CHAPTER    XVIII. 

THE  DEATH  STRUGGLE.  —  WHAT  THE  WAVES  SAID. 

McVERNON  was  a  gross  man— r-a  selfish  man,  but  not 
altogether  heartless.  There  were  germs  in  his  nature 
which,  had  they  been  cultivated  by  the  hand  of  kindness, 
would  have  made  him  a  true,  honest,  and  solid  citizen. 
Wealth,  which  has  made  more  bad  men  than  ever  poverty 
accomplished,  had  done  its  work  of  perversion  by  him. 
Things  which  would  have  stamped  another  man  with  scorn 
were  passed  over,  as  far  as  he  was  concerned,  in  view  of 
his  enormous  wealth.  He  could  do  nothing  wrong  —  noth 
ing  that  wealth  could  not  overshadow.  He  had  lived  a 
bachelor  life,  heedless,  reckless,  and  unthinking.  If  there 
was  a  true,  a  generous,  or  a  holy  impulse  in  his  nature,  it 
was  called  out  by  a  foster  child  that  had  been  left  by  a 
dying  woman  to  his  care. 

This  child  had  grown  up  under  his  very  eye  into  wild, 
untamable,  but  beautiful  womanhood.  A  very  tiger  in  her 
fierceness,  wayward  and  wilful,  to  all  but  him,  there  was  a 
fascination  in  her  society  which,  when  sated  with  city  fan 
tasies,  always  drew  him  to  her  presence.  She  had  been 
carefully  brought  up  by  a  maiden  sister  of  his,  who  resided 
some  few  miles  from  Boston.  The  evening  after  the  denoue- 
16  (181) 


182  HAGAR     THE     MAKTTR. 

ment  of  the  last  chapter,  a  little  elfish  figure  sat  gazing  out 
into  the  shadows  of  her  country  home.  Her  eyes  were 
fierce  and  bright,  and  her  whole  face  was  darkened  by  most 
vehement  passion.  Anna  had  been  there  during  the  day, 
and  had  questioned  her  regarding  her  husband.  A  form 
broke  up  her  musing,  and  darkened  over  the  chair  whereon 
she  sat.  "I  am  miserable  —  miserable"  murmured  the 
strong  man,  bringing  his  fist  heavily  down  upon  the  table. 
The  girl  looked  up  with  a  fierce,  dark  smile. 

"I  wish  I  had  never  seen  her  —  I  do;"  and  the  sated 
man  of  many  blessings  sank  sobbing  into  a  chair. 

"  Don't  !  "  said  the  girl,  rising  and  laying  her  hand  upon 
Lis  chair.  It  was  the  first  time  since  his  marriage  that 
she  had  approached  him  kindly.  "No  one  loves  me  —  no 
one  cares  for  me  !  I  wish  I  was  dead,"  again  burst  forth 
from  his  livid  lips. 

"  1  love  you  !  "  murmured  a  soft  voice  in  his  ear. 

"  You  ?  " 

"  //  "  It  was  a  single  word,  pronounced  with  an  echo 
of  his  own  wild  vehemence,  and  he  believed  it.  "  Do  you 
think  I'm  not  sorry'  for  you  ?  Do  you  think  I  would  not 
bring  you  back  to  happiness  if  I  could  do  it  by  draining  my 
own  heart  ?  " 

McVernon  opened  his  wide-spread  arms,  and  folded  her 
closely  in  his  embrace. 

"  You  frighten  me  ! "  she  exclaimed,  "  you  look  so  wild." 

"  Don't  shrink  from  me  !  Don't  be  afraid  of  me  —  I 
won't  harm  you  —  no,  by  my  soul's  salvation.  Do  you 


HAGAR     THE      MARTYR.  183 

not  think  it  is  joy  enough  for  me  to  hold  you  on  my  heart, 
pure  and  undefiled  as  you  are,  without  trying  to  work  your 
ruin  ?  Do  you  think  it  is  not  enough  to  hold  you  in  my 
arms  —  you  that  no  other  man's  arms  have  clasped  ?  0, 
why  didn't  I  know  of  this  before  ?  " 

"  No  matter ;  we  will  never  part  again  ! " 

"Girl!" 

"  Never  f  To  watch  over  you  in  sickness  ;  to  care  for 
you  in  sorrow  ;  to  sit  by  you  while  you  slept,  —  what  privi 
leges  these  would  be  !  No,  we'll  part  no  more  ! " 

"  O,  impossible !  You  do  not  know  what  you  are 
saying." 

"  I  know  that  you  are  all  the  world  to  me.  What  do  I 
care,  so  I  am  with  you  ?  " 

"  You  must  care.  I'm  not  a  devil,  and  only  a  devil  could 
take  advantage  of  such  innocence.  No,  no,  no !  You 
can't  be  my  wife ;  I  will  not  make  you  my  mistress.  Here, 
Amy  !  "  Before  the  astonished  girl  could  answer,  his  sister 
had  responded  to  his  call.  She  recoiled  at  sight  of  her 
young  charge  thus  passionately  folded  to  her  father's  heart. 

"  No  words,  no  words,"  said  he,  seeing  she  was  about  to 
speak.  "  Take  her ;  you'll  see  no  more  of  me  till  I  am 
free."  A  flash  of  lightning  showed  his  features  livid  and 
wild  with  anguish. 

"Go  to  your  room,"  said  the  sister,  with  considerable 
austerity. 

The  young  girl  rose  and  passed  on,  but  with  a  flush  of 
haughty  insolence  on  her  face  which  defied  her  frown.  A 


184  HAGAK      THE     MARTYR. 

few  more  minutes  and  McVernon,  with  great,  hasty  strides, 
was  making  for  the  river,  which  lay  like  a  belt  of  gold  be 
tween  the  town  and  city.  The  storm  had  been  rising  un- 
perceived  by  the  inmates  of  the  house,  and  now  raged  with 
unbounded  fury.  The  trees  writhed  and  groaned  as  if  in 
mortal  agony ;  the  river,  usually  so  calm  and  placid,  Avas 
white  with  foam,  while  the  waves  leaped  up  upon  the  high 
rocks  to  bound  back  again  with  a  sudden  crash  into  the 
arms  of  the  stream.  One  moment  the  whole  heavens  seemed 
lurid  with  flame ;  the  next,  the  darkness  was  so  intolerable 
that  it  was  positively  alarming.  On  and  on  strode  the 
heedless  man,  now  stumbling  in  the  darkness,  and  anon 
closing  his  eyes  to  shut  out  the  horrible  glare.  Moored 
among  the  alders,  a  little  boat  creaked  and  trembhBd  above 
the  maddened  waters.  None  but  a  madman  would  attempt 
to  cross  the  river  in  such  a  shell  upon  such  a  night. 
McVernon,  now  more  of  a  man  than  he  had  ever  been, 
was  flying  from  the  only  danger  he  could  comprehend  — 
the  danger,  in  his  own  ungovernable  passion,  of  wronging 
the  innocent  girl  who  had  given  him  her  pure  heart.  He 
would  die  first.  He  was  only  a  man,  after  all  —  a  man  that 
had  never  stopped  for  the  still  small  voice  of  conscience, 
where  there  lay  before  him  any  thing  which  could  subserve 
his  pleasure.  Why  should  he  now,  when  her  soft  arms 
were  round  his  neck  —  when  her  warm  lips  were  firing  his 
blood  ?  No !  He  had  guarded  her  as  something  holy  in 
its  heavenly  purity ;  as  something  like  a  saving  clause  in 
his  life  of  excesses  and  abuses.  O,  how  galling  now  were 


H  A  G  A  R      THE      MARTYR.  185 

the  hateful  chains  that  bound  him  to  another  !  —  that  other 
that  had  never  loved  him,  that  held  him  now  by  a  bond  of 
crime.  This  thought  sent  a  chill  over  his  frame,  and  he 
strode  on  faster  than  ever,  as  if  to  outwalk  some  horrible 
haunting  memory.  This  passed,  and  the  image  of  his  beau 
tiful  charge  came  up  again  in  its  stead  —  her  passion  and 
her  pity,  her  impulse  and  her  wildness.  He  could  feel 
her  clinging  arms  as  no  other  arms  had  ever  encircled  him 
—  as  no  arms  could  ever  encircle  him  again.  It  was  thus 
that  he  desired  to  be  loved  —  'twas  thus  he  wished  to  die. 
His  step  was  wavering  —  wavering  with  a  resolution  half 
passion,  half  despair,  when  a  flash  of  light  showed  him  his 
boat  dancing-  upon  the  foaming  waves.  Was  it  fancy  — 
that  strange,  white  figure  sitting  watchful  in  the  stern  of  the 
boat  ?  He  would  not  believe  it.  He  stopped  to  gaze  again. 
There  it  was  —  calm,  pale,  serene  ;  with  its  long  curls  drift 
ing  on  the  wind  —  a  human  being.  It  looked  up  with  a 
loving,  resojute  smile,  and  made  way  for  him  to  take  his 
seat  beside  her. 

"  I  will  go  with  you."  It  was  his  loving,  reckless  charge, 
.who  had  left  the  house  before  him,  and  sought  the  river  as 
the  way  he  would  return. 

"  But  the  tempest " 

" No  matter!" 

"  The  swollen  river ! " 

"  No  matter  ! " 

"  The  boat  might  swamp " 

"  I  should  be  with  you." 


186  HAGAR     THE      MARTYR. 

He  caught  her  in  his  arms,  and  held  her  in  his  passionate 
embrace.  A  moment  more,  and  the  fragile  boat  shot  out 
into  the  river,  and  cut  its  way  through  the  drifting  foam. 
The  storm  which  had  been  gathering  all  the  evening  now 
encircled  them  with  redoubled  fury. 

"  You  are  not  frightened  ?  " 

"Frightened!" 

She  laid  one  soft  hand  upon  his  shoulder,  taking  care  to 
leave  his  arms  free  to  ply  the  oars.  Her  face  was  sublime 
in  its  trusting,  determined  confidence. 

"My 'God!  what  is  this?"  exclaimed  the  startled  man, 
as  a  low,  whizzing  sound  caught  his  ear. 

"  The  boat  has  sprung  a-leak." 

It  was  true.  A  board  had  become  loose,  and  in  the 
wrenching  of  the  waves  it  had  given  way  altogether.  The 
water  was  pouring  in  —  a  rushing  stream  !  Another  mo 
ment  the  boat  would  sink  from  under  them.  What  was  to 
be  done  ?  There  was  no  time  for  thought.  McVernon  was" 
only  a  tolerable  swimmer,  and  a  long  sheet  of  water  lay  be 
tween  him  and  the  land*  It  was  a  fearful  moment  —  a 
moment  of  strange,  wild  horror.  It  was  only  a  moment. . 
With  the  return  of  self-possession  he  threw  off  his  clothes, 
and  as  the  boat  went  down  with  a  sucking,  whizzing  sound, 
he  caught  the  fearless  girl  in  his  arms,  threw  her  across 
his  neck,  and  struck  boldly  out  into  the  water. 

«  Hold  firm  —  don't  fear  ! " 

The  clasp  of  her  soft  hands  gave  him  the  strength  of 
madness.  He  would  save  her  —  he  would  !  Already  the 


H  A  G  A  R     THE     MARTYR.  187 

countless  lights  glimmered  before  him  from  the  city.  A 
few  minutes  more,  and  the  shore  would  be  gained. 

Courage,  courage  !  Fainter  and  fainter  grow  the  efforts 
of  the  toiling  man,  while  the  elfin  girl  loosens  her  clasp, 
and  endeavors  to  aid  him. 

"  See,  we  are  almost  there." 

The  voice,  the  words  reassure  him,  and  once  more  he 
vigorously  battles  with  .the  waves. 

Fiercer  and  fiercer  howls  the  storm,  while  the  pitiless 
rain  falls  cold  and  slant  upon  the  daring  pair. 

Brave !  Another  determined  effort,  and  the  shore  is 
won. 

She  folds  him  more  lovingly  —  womanlike,  rains  kisses 
upon  his  sea-wet  hair  —  encourages  him  by  soft,  fond 
words. 

He  hears  them,  he  comp/ehends  their  meaning,  and  his 
eye  brightens  with  joy,  although  the  water  shuts  them  from 
her  gaze. 

Bear  up  —  strike  out !     Life  or  death  is  in  the  effort. 

He  does  not  hear  her  now.  There  is  a  rumbling,  as  of 
a  thousand  waves,  deadening  his  senses. 

Fainter  and  fainter  plash  the  limbs  of  that  athletic  swim 
mer.  He  cannot  see  the  shore,  nor  the  city,  nor  the  lights. 
The  waters  rush  up  around  his  face,  and  choke  him.  He 
makes  one  more  gigantic  effort.  He  feels  a  cold,  wet 
face  lying  close  to  his  own,  and  he  remembers  the  reward 
to  be  meted  out  for  his  success. 

In  vain — in  vain  !     He  knows  that  all  of  life  and  hap- 


188  HAGAR     THEMARTYR. 

piness  is  over  for  him  in  this  world ;  yet  even  with  his  last 
throb,  his  heart  shivers  with  delicious  joy  that  no  other 
arms  can  ever  encompass  the  form  sinking  with  him  be 
neath  the  waves. 

And  the  loving  girl  comprehends  it  all !  She  utters  no 
scream,  no  moan,  but  clasps  him  more  closely,  and  gives 
voice  to  a  low,  soft  prayer  :  "  Forgive  us  our  trespasses  !  " 
50  soft,  so  low,  that  the  moaning  wind  scarcely  carries  the 
echo  to  the  coveted  shore. 

"  Forgive  us  our  trespasses !  "  It  is  all  of  that  grand, 
consoling  prayer  her  scattered  senses  could  recollect. 

"  Forgive  us  our  trespasses !  "  There  is  a  wilder  com 
motion,  a  deeper  gurgling  of  the  waves,  and  where  the 
swimmers  were  the  next  flash  of  light  shows  only  a  dead, 
heavy  calm. 


CHAPTER    XIX. 

FASHIONABLE  DISSIPATION. 

THE  "  at  home "  evening  of  the  fashionable  Misses  Pin- 
chin,  on  Mount  Vernon  Street,  was  unusually  crowded  and 
brilliant.  Lawrence,  the  mesmerist,  was  the  "lion  of  the 
hour,  and  rumor  had  circulated  it  about  that  he  was  to  honor 
the  reunion  with  his  presence. 

The  Misses  Pinchin  ! 

By  rights  I  should  devote  a  whole  chapter  to  their  ac 
count.  It  was  never  quite  known  what  their  antecedents 
were.  If  their  word  was  gospel,  the  blood  of  English  roy 
alty  ran  in  their  veins ;  yet  it  was  sometimes  hinted  that 
their  family  tree  was  rooted  in  a  train  oil  store.  How 
ever,  they  kept  a  very  fashionable  boarding  house,  for  the 
sake  of  company,  being  both  of  them  on  the  shady  side  of 
single  blessedness ;  attended  to  their  own  household  affairs, 
for  the  sake  of  exercise  ;  and  kept  record  of  every  body's 
sins  but  their  own,  for  the  sake  of  employment. 

The  elder  sister,  Miss  Margaretta,  (a  perversion  of  the 
homelier  name  of  Meg,)  was  a  tall,-  showily  dressed,  bus 
tling  busybody,  very  energetic,  very  decided,  and  very  like 
her  model  woman,  Mrs.  Welman.  Of  course,  she  was  the 
head  and  front  of  the  establishment  —  paid  the  bills,  did 

(189) 


1 

190  HAGAR     THE     MARTTB. 

the  shopping,  (did  the  clerks  too,  so  they  said,)  scolded  the 
servants,  and  found  fault  generally.  Viola,  the  younger, 
was  a  sweet,  drooping  flower,  as  her  name  testified  ;  not 
less  than  twenty,  nor  over  fifty  —  in  short,  a  young  old  maid, 
who,  having  forgotten  how  to  grow  old  gracefully,  was  con 
stantly  creating  food  for  the  ridicule  of  the  gay  and  the  pity 
of  the  sedate.  There  was  only  one  thing  that  Viola  could 
do  better  than  to  fall  in  love,  and  that  was,  to  full  out  of  it. 
If  her  heart  had  been  broken  once,  it  had  been  a  hundred 
times,  until  it  would  seem  to  those  who  knew  her,  that  there 
was  no  fresh  spot  to  break  out  in.  In  every  fresh  emer 
gency,  a  piece  of  poetry,  in  which  the  various  stages  of  the 
disease  called  love  were  amply  shadowed  forth,  appeared 
in  the  Poet's  Corner,  addressed  "  To  one  who  could  under 
stand  it,"  though  there  is  a  doubt  upon  my  mind  whether 
she  understood  it  herself  or  not.  In  a  romantic  mood,  great 
ly  to  her  strong-minded  sister's  indignation,  she  had  adopted 
a  most  lovely  and  bewitching  girl,  who,  being  an  orphan, 
gladly  accepted  the  post  of  attendant  upon  this  antiquated 
specimen  of  juvenility.  Her  weak  point,  at  this  time,  was 
a  young  and  brilliant  poet,  who  graced  their  "  at  home,  8," 
with  his  fascinating  presence ;  for  they  certainly  did  get 
brilliant  people  into  their  conversaziones  —  did  the  Pin- 
chins  !  and  as  Ida,  the  adopted,  was  something  for  a  poet's 
eye  to  rest  on,  he  was  not  so  much  to  blame  after  all,  al 
though  people  did  say  he  rather  encouraged  this  idiosyn- 
cracy  on  the  part  of  his  adoring  old  flame.  To  see  her 
sentimental  looks,  and  her  corkscrew  curls !  to  see  her 


HAGAR     THE     MARTYR.  191 

youthful  airs  and  her  withered  shoulders !  Well,  he  was 
only  mortal,  and  there  was  some  fun  in  it,  you  may  be  sure ! 
Not  that  I  think  that  at  any  time,  or  under  any  circum 
stances,  any  one  person  is  justified  in  encouraging  a  passion 
they  have  no  intention  of  sharing;  but  there  are  circum 
stances  in  which  the  ludicrous  is  prominent  enough  to  af 
ford  an  excuse,  and  this  was  one  of  them. 

Ida  was  a  soft,  lazy,  indolent  little  beauty,  with  hazy  blue 
eyes  and  long,  sweeping  curls ;  just  the  thing  to  creep  into 
a  poet's  heart,  and  make  music  of  its  strings. 

If  she  thought  any  thing  at  all  about  her  lover's  atten 
tions  to  the  antiquated  juvenile,  which  I  rather  doubt,  she 
took  the  credit  upon  her  own  shoulders,  which  were  round, 
and  plump,  and  beautiful  enough  to  bear  the  burden  with 
becoming  honor.  As  I  wrote  above,  this  evening  was  one 
of  unusual  expectancy  and  excitement  at  the  Pinchins' 
fashionable  boarding  house.  The  double  parlors  were 
thrown  open,  the  furniture  uncovered,  while  the  brilliant 
chandelier  —  the  Pinchins'  especial  pride  — flung  a  subdued 
twilight  over  the  assemblage,  quite  dreamy  in  its  softness. 
Curiosity  was  upon  tiptoe  to  see  the  wonderful  mesmerist, 
in  whose  eye  lay  such  mysterious  force  ;  and  it  is  only  nat 
ural  to  suppose  that  the  female  spirits  were  wondering  to 
themselves  if  it  could  affect  them,  and,  perhaps,  not  a  little 
curious  to  try  the  experiment  of  mesmeric  influence.  Let 
us  peep  in  upon  them  in  our  capacity  of  clairvoyance.  It 
is  easy  to  perceive  that  there  are  but  few  gentlemen  present, 
the  conversation  goes  on  in  such  quiet  whispers.  One  party 


192  HAGAR     THE     MARTYR. 

is  formed  in  a  far-off  corner,  where  characters  are  being 
discussed  and  picked  to  pieces ;  for  where  many  women 
congregate,  it  is  impossible  to  shut  out  scandal.  Miss  Mar- 
garetta  is  sitting  bolt  against  the  wall,  stiff  as  a  poker,  in 
her  lemon  brocade,  ready  to  make  a  bolt  at  the  celebrity 
the  moment  he  enters  the  room.  The  poet  is  busily  enter 
taining  his  little  world  by  details  of  newspaper  items.  He 
is  the  reviewer  and  puff  writer  general  for  one  of  our  large 
publishing  houses,  and  as  such  feels  invested  with  a  lordly 
degree  of  interest  in  authors  that  are,  and  authors  that  are 
to  come.  Just  now  he  is  especially  urgent  in  the  cause  of 
a  fair  lady,  just  about  making  her  debut  in  the  literary 
field.  Of  course  all  ears  are  open  to  the  wonderful  details 
of  the  forthcoming  volume. 

"  I'm  writing  it  up  famously,"  he  whispers,  with  a  nod 
of  his  head.  "  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin  will  be  distanced  alto 
gether  ;  besides,  the  work  itself  is  a  thousand  times  superior 
to  Uncle  Tom.  By  the  by,  have  you  seen  my  advertise 
ment  ?  Somebody  will  wince  under  it.  It  is  a  great  thing 
to  hold  the  destiny  of  authorship  in  the  palm  of  one's  hand." 
And  the  poet  complacently  threaded  his  through  a  mass  of 
reddish  hair,  which  seemed  to  defy  all  efforts  at  smoothness. 
No  one  had  read  the  advertisement ;  so  he  produced  it  for 
their  gratification.  By  that  time  nearly  all  the  company 
had  gathered  around  him,  Hagar  among  the  number. 

He  spread  the  paper  before  him,  once  more  petted  his 
forehead  and  hair,  and  then  commenced  reading. 

"  This  story  is  destined  to  produce  an  impression  upon 


THE     MARTYR.  193 


the  nation,  powerful,  far-reaching,  and  permanent.  As  a 
novel  merely,  it  equals  in  interest  the*  most  brilliant  fictions 
of  modern  times.  But  it  is  chiefly  in  relation  to  the  insti 
tution  of  southern  slavery  that  the  hook  will  awaken  the 
'deepest  interest.  The  thrilling  incidents  to  which  this 
anomalous  institution  gives  rise,  by  interweaving  the  des 
tiny  of  master  and  slave  in  the  same  web  of  fate,  are  repre 
sented  with  wonderful  vividness.  A  calm,  inflexible  ad 
herence  to  truth  marks  every  page." 

"  Arn't  you  cutting  it  rather  fat  for  a  new  beginner  ?  " 
broke  in  one  of  the  listeners. 

"  Don't  interrupt  me.  You  haven't  got  to  the  joke  of  it 
yet,"  answered  the  reader. 

"  Yes  ;  let  him  go  on.  If  there  is  any  joke  about  Wim 
ple,  let's  have  it,"  laughed  Ida. 

"  Nothing  of  the  blue  fire  of  melodrama  is  seen  ;  nor  is 
the  deepest  tragedy  marred  by  the  screech  and  contortions 
of  a  second-rate  actress." 

"  Ha,  ha,  ha  !  Do  you  take  ?  I  can  imagine  how  some 
body  will  wince  over  that."  And  he  folded  the  paper,  as 
self-elated  as  if  he  had  raised  the  one  and  crushed  the  other 
by  the  wave  of  his  pen. 

"  And  will  your  publishing  house  sell  one  more  novel  for 
that  slur  upon  a  woman,  who,  if  not  reaching  your  range  of 
intellect,  at  least  meets  the  wants  and  desires  of  the  average 
mass  ?  " 

It  was  Hagar  that  had  spoken,  and  now  bent  her  calm 
eyes  upon  him  for  an  answer. 
17 


194  HAG  A  II     THE     MAKTYK. 

"  Sell !  Why,  no  ;  it  won't  sell  any  more  copies,  that  I 
know  of;  but  it  will  make  some  sport,  and  annoy  another 
writer,"  answered  Wimple,  his  eyes  brimming  over  with 
mirth,  as  if  there  never  was  and  never  would  be  any  thing 
so  funny  again. 

"  But  why  should  you  desire  to  annoy  her  ?  Has  she 
ever  injured  you  ?  " 

"  No  ;  but  one  must  have  some  fun  in  the  world." 

"And  this  that  you  call  fun  is  one  of  those  incidents 
which  make  those  they  are  aimed  at  lose  all  confidence  in 
the  kindliness  of  human  nature.  Suppose,  now,  that  an' 
accumulation  of  annoyances  had  made  her  especially  sensi 
tive  just  at  the  time  you  were  penning  that  article,  and  that 
on  reading  it  she  had  grown  dispirited  enough  to  think 
seriously  of  self-destruction  ?  " 

"  I  should  say  she  was  a  bigger  fool  than  I  ever  took  her 
to  be,"  he  answered,  laughing. 

"  I  was  with  her,  Wimple,  when  that  notice  was  sent  her. 
She  had  been  ill  and  depressed  all  day ;  and  when  she  read 
that  —  so  unnecessary  —  so  unfeeling  —  I  trust  never  again 
to  see  a  person  so  utterly  reckless  and  depressed  as  she  was. 
O,  believe  me, '  truth  is  stranger  than  fiction ; '  and  these 
little  heedless  stings  do  more  to  break  up  the  heart's  love 
of  life  than  do  all  the  great  events  which  call  forth  strength 
to  meet  them." 

"  How  seriously  you  take  it,  Hagar  !  I  didn't  mean  to 
injure  any  one  especially." 

"  I  know  you  didn't ;  and  that  is  why  I  speak  of  it,  that 


HAGAR     THE     MARTYR.  195 

you  may  restrain  your  hand  when  again  tempted  to  do  a 
similar  act.  What  sent  the  recent  suicide,  Anna  McLain, 
out  of  the  world,  think  you,  but  an  accumulation  of  just 
such  petty  annoyances  as  this  ?  I  don't  approve  of  it,  mind 
you,  or  think  that  any  thing  could  make  me  do  so  rash  an 
act ;  but  there  are  few  of  us,  I  think,  that,  at  one  time  or 
another,  do  not,  in  contemplation  of  perverted  human  nature, 
ask  '  if  this  be  all  of  life,  and  nought  beyond,  O  earth ! ' 
But  what  a  solemn-looking  crowd  we  are,  to  be  sure !  It  is 
all  your  doings,  Wimple.  I  hope  you  feel  the  better  for  it, 
for  I  am  afraid  none  of  the  rest  of  us  do." 

"  Hagar,  you  have  read  me  a  lecture  that  I  shall  remem 
ber  to  the  longest  day  of  my  life.  I  never  thought  of  these 
things  so  seriously." 

"  Come,  stir  about.  Let's  shake  off  this  solemnity. 
We'll  install  Hagar  preacher  yet." 

But  what  gush  of  melody  is  it  that  rings  out  through  the 
hall  ?  and  what  vision  of  brightness  frames  itself  in  the 
door? 

"  Ha,  ha !  ha,  ha,  ha !  How  terribly  proper  you  all  are  ! 
What's  the  matter,  eh  ?  I  should  think  it  was  a  church, 
and  you  all  .doing  penance  for  your  sins." 

"  No.  Only  Wimple's  got  any  sins  to  answer  for  in  this 
crowd.  Eh,  Wimple  ?  " 

"  0,  you  go  to  grass,  will  you  ?  "  grunts  the  poet,  in  a  very 
unpoetic  humor. 

"  Ha,  ha  !  But  what  does  ail  you,  eh  ?  and  where's  the 
lion  ?  I  want  to  see  the  lion.  I've  got  myself  up  at  tre- 


196  HAGAR    THE     MARTYR. 

mendous  expense,  all  for  to  see  the  lion.  Ah,  Western,  ig 
that  you  ?  How  are  you,  Western  ?  —  and  how  am  I  look 
ing,  eh  ?  Shall  I  take  down  the  lion  ?" 

O  Lizzie !  O,  bright,  saucy,  bewildering  Lizzie !  O, 
mischievous,  merry-hearted,  tormenting  Lizzie  !  O,  Lizzie 
of  the  ringing  tone  and  loving  heart !  looking  so  innocent 
of  intention,  yet  laughing,  in  those  flowing  sleeves  of  yours, 
to  see  the  wincing  of  poor  Mrs.  Western !  Was  it  worth 
the  powder  to  ruffle  the  feathers  of  that  jealous,  petulant 
little  wife  only  for  mischief's  sake  ?  In  all  that  large  room, 
is  there  nowhere  for  you  to  sit  but  just  there,  in  front  of 
Western,  where,  every  time  your  laughing  brown  eyes  fly 
out,  they  must  rest  upon  his  face  ?  O,  bewitching,  beautiful 
Lizzie !  if  all  the  women  you  torment,  and  all  the  wives 
you  tease,  knew  just  how  many  straws  you  care  for  admira 
tion,  unless  coming  from  the  one  legitimate  quarter,  it  would 
save  them  an  immense  deal  of  bitterness  in  their  cup,  and 
an  immense  number  of  thorns  on  their  seat,  while  you  are 
about  with  your  pretty  little  ways.  O  Lizzie !  with  all 
your  frivolity,  you  are  one  of  the  human  books  whose 
leaves  are  worth  learning  by  heart.  But  here  comes  a  raft 
of  visitors  —  Ellen  Willard,  Mr.  Veazie,  Walter  Meadows. 
Ah,  bright  Lizzie !  you  may  well  leave  Mrs.  Western  in 
peaceful  possession,  and  fly  off  after  him.  He  is  one  of 
your  sort  —  knows  just  what  you  mean,  and  takes  your  lit 
tle  coquetries  for  just  what  they  mean,  and  that  is  —  nothing. 
I  should  like  to  describe  Walter  Meadows  —  he  being,  in  a 
manner,  the  hero  of  my  story,  if  he  would  only  stay  just 


HAGAB     THE     MARTYR.  197 

long  enough  for  the  operation.  Without  being  that  despi 
cable  thing,  a  male  flirt,  he  was  the  most  popular  man 
imaginable  among  the  opposite  sex.  Bright,  witty,  and 
keen  —  full  of  fun  and  anecdote  —  ever  ready  to  do  his 
share  in  the  way  of  amusement  —  there  was  no  party  or 
social  gathering  voted  complete  without  him.  With  an  or 
dinary  degree  of  personal  vanity,  he  was  still  a  man  with 
whom  a  woman  could  dance,  laugh,  chat,  walk,  or  perform 
any  other  familiarity  in  reason  without  the  fear  of  being 
misunderstood,  or  immediately  besieged  with  a  desperate 
tender  of  inordinate  affection.  Handsome  he  was,  too,  be 
yond  the  usual  standard  of  manly  beauty.  In  fact,  those 
who  knew  him  best  asserted  that  he  had  a  narrow  escape 
from  being  that  horror  of  society,  a  pretty  man.  His  form, 
scarcely  above  the  medium  height,  was  rounded  in  the  most 
perfect  mould  of  artistic  grace.  His  hands  and  feet  were 
exquisitely  small,  and  bore  the  same  unmistakable  marks 
of  Nature's  aristocracy.  His  sunny  eyes  radiated  sunshine ; 
and  his  expressive  face  beamed  with  the  genial  humor  of 
a  happy,  noble  heart.  And  noble  he  was,  beyond  all  pre 
cedent.  He  might  be  influenced  wrongfully  by  the  force 
of  circumstances,  for  he  was  sensitive  to  a  high  degree ;  but 
his  heart  was  in  the  right  place,  and  no  circumstances  could 
long  pervert  that.  He  was  a  man  that  no  woman  with  an 
artist's  eye  could  pass  in  the  street  without  turning  for  a 
second  glance  ;  and  he  was  also  one  whom  no  woman  could 
know  without  instinctively  recognizing  his  claim  to  confi 
dence  and  gentlemanly  consideration.  His  refined  taste  for 
17* 


198  HAGAR      THE      MARTYR. 

elegant  surroundings,  his  genial,  laughter-loving  spirit,  and 
more  than  all,  his  open  and  avowed  scorn  for  what  was  in 
the  least  mean  or  sordid,  rendered  him  as  great  a  favorite 
with  his  own  sex  as  he  was  with  the  opposite.  And  yet, 
with  enough  to  spoil  a  pretty  sensible  man,  he  had  not  the 
least  particle  of  vanity  or  of  self-conceit  in  his  nature.  He 
dazzled  without  being  conscious  of  it  —  pleased  without 
effort  at  effect.  His  careless,  graceful  demeanor  had  a 
home  sensation  in  it  which  placed  every  one  coming  under 
its  influence  quite  at  ease.  If  there  was  a  stratum  of  deeper 
thought,  or  of  wilder  power,  embedded  in  his  nature,  his 
genuine  sunny  side  kept  it  in  shadow.  He  looked  upon  the 
world  as  it  was,  rather  than  as  it  ought  to  be  —  marred  by 
inconsistencies  and  caprices,  yet  possessing  a  bright  face  for 
all  who  choose  to  look  for  it.  Until  of  late,  his  sensations 
had  nearly  all  been  happy  ones.  To  desire,  with  him,  was 
to  have ;  and  that  his  successes  had  not  made  him  a  cox 
comb,  was  attributable  as  much  to  the  solid  and  sterling 
merit  of  his  nature  as  to  the  purity  and  halo  encircling  the 
existence  of  a  first,  a  true,  and  an  only  love.  Lizzie  Linder 
had  known  Walter  from  childhood,  and  fully  appreciated 
the  nobleness  of  spirit  which  a  thorough  acquaintance  so 
fully  disclosed.  She  knew,  though  few  there  were  to  credit 
it,  that  strong  and  powerful  feelings  were  slumbering  be 
neath  a  peaceful  exterior ;  and  this  evening  her  unerring 
judgment  told  her  that  the  dash,  the  glow,  and  the  sparkle 
of  an  unusually  brilliant  conversation,  with  which  he  amused 
the  company,  was  but  a  mask  which  he  did  not  choose  the 


HAGAR     THE     MARTYR.  199 

careless  eye  should  penetrate.  She  had,  two  or  three 
times,  perceived  that  suffering,  care-worn  look  supersede 
his  joyous  gayety ;  and  caring  little  for  conventional  re 
serve,  and  less  for  the  surmises  of  the  company,  she  folded 
her  little  hand  over  his  arm,  and  led  him  out  on  the 
balcony. 

"Walter,"  she  began,  when  out  of  hearing  of  the  crowd; 
"  something  ails  you,  Walter.  What  is  it  ?  " 

The  question  coming  from  any  other  quarter  would  have 
been  met  with  indignant  repulse.  But  Lizzie  —  she  was 
an  exception  every  where.  Her  frank,  honest  ingenuous 
ness  paved  her  way  to  immense  popularity.  Hers  was  one 
of  those  earnest,  honest  hearts  so  seldom  to  be  met  with, 
yet  so  greatly  to  be  revered.  There  was  no  impertinence 
in  the  open,  direct  question  addressed  to  Walter,  and 
nothing  but  the  sincerest  sympathy  in  the  bright,  earnest 
face  upturned  for  an  answer.  He  tried  to  shake  off  the 
anxious,  uneasy  expression  of  suffering,  and  turn  her  sur 
mises  into  ridicule  ;  but  there  was  such  an  honesty  of  pur 
pose  in  her  eyes  that  he  could  not  resist  their  eloquence. 

"  Lizzie,  I  am  unhappy  —  miserable.  I  won't  deny  it  to 
you.  But  I  am,  and  that's  a  fact." 

"  What  is  the  matter  ?  Perhaps  it's  not  so  bad,  after 
all." 

"  Bad  !  Isn't  it,  though  ?  The  fact  is,  I  —  I'm  not  well 
pleased  with  Hagar  lately.  She  has  turned  out  different 
from  what  I  had  a  right  to  expect." 

"  Hagar  has  been  unfortunate,  Walter  —  very  unfortu- 


200  H  A  G  A  R     THE     M  A  R  T  T  E  . 

nate,"  replied  Lizzie,  hesitating,  as  if  she  was  treading  on 
dangerous  ground.  "  But,  "Walter,  it  is  not  for  us  to  say 
how  much  of  sin  there  has  been  hi  her  misfortune.  There 
have  been  clouds  for  her,  and  storms,  Walter,  such  as  we 
know  nothing "  about ;  and  her  struggles  for  the  right  will 
redeem  her  in  a  mightier  eye  than  ours.  I  think,  if  we 
could  have  more  sympathy  —  we  women,  I  mean  —  with 
the  unfortunate  of  our  sex,  we  should  appear  better  in  the 
sight  of  Him  who,  with  all  his  purity,  was  not  too  pure  to 
lend  a  helping  hand,  and  speak  a  kindly  word,  to  one  who 
had  fallen  from  her  high  station  amongst  those  about  her. 
Indeed,  Walter,  Hagar  is  a  noble  woman,  '  obscure  her 
excess  of  glory '  as  they  may.  She  is  worthy  even  of  your 
love,  and  that's  saying  a  good  deal." 

For  a  moment  Lizzie  seemed  wrapped  in  her  own  medi- 
•  tations,  and  Walter  looked  in  her  face,  to  read  there  any 
revelation  the  bright  features  chose  to  make. 

The  exposition  had  come  upon  him  so  suddenly,  was  so  un 
locked  for,  that  he  was  not  prepared  to  read  its  knowledge 
in  the  faces  of  those  about  him.  He  had  forgotten  that  "  ill 
news  flies  fast." 

"  There  is  no  use  mincing  matters,"  Lizzie  began,  again, 
in  a  hasty,  nervous  manner.  "  Under  other  circumstances, 
or  to  another  person,  I  might  have  blushed  to  revert  to  acts 
of  criminality  for  which  the  world  has  chosen  its  especial 
method  of  retribution.  But  you  are,  both  of  you,  dear 
friends  of  mine ;  you  both  love  and  are  worthy  of  each 
other;  and  you  both  are  struggling  with  thoughts  and 


HAGAR     THE     MARTYR.  201 

intentions,  which,  if  carried  out,  will  ring  the  death  knell 
to  happiness  !  It  mustn't  be,  Walter  !  indeed,  it  mustn't ! 
You  must  dare  the  world's  sneer,  and  show  yourself  above 
the  pool  of  little  prejudices  which  ingulf  so  many  hearts." 

"  But  it  is  the  hypocrisy,  Lizzie  !  Think  of  her,  in  all 
these  years  living  a  lie." 

"  Walter ! "  It  was  .only  a  simple  word,  spoken  in  a 
grieved  and  simple  tone  ;  but  the  blaze  of  indignation  died 
away  before  it,  and  left  a  sad,  thoughtful  expression  in  its 
stead. 

"  What  could  she  do  otherwise,  and  retain  the  least  foot 
hold  upon  that  hill  she  was  striving  so  hard  to  ascend." 

"  True,  true,  Lizzie !  If  the  bitter  censors  could  only 
hear  you  talk  !  I  wish  they  could  for  Hagar's  sake." 

"  Now  you  are  like  your  own  manly  self,  Walter  !  When 
I  first  heard  what  you  have  so  recently  learned,  like  the 
generality  of  my  sex,  my  woman's  nature  rose  .in  arms 
against  her.  I  couldn't  imagine  an  excuse  for  such  a  deg 
radation.  Because  I  was  strong  I  thought  no  one  else  need 
be  weak;  and  that's  the  way  we  all  judge,  Walter;  how 
rightfully,  we  shall  never  know  this  side  of  eternity.  Well, 
as  I  was  saying,  I  too  shrunk  from  her,  and  passed  by  upon 
the  other  side.  I  may  as  well  own  up  to  the  entire  truth 
while  I  am  about  it.  It  was  before  I  was  married,  you 
know  —  when  Hagar  first  moved  to  the  city  —  you  know 
she  was  always  popular  with  your  sex ;  and,  somehow,  her 
self-possession,  her  calmness,  her  impatient  endurance  of 
gentlemanly  courtesy  and  attention,  fascinated  Linder." 


HAGAE     THE     HAETYE. 

"  Jealous  —  eh,  Lizzie  ?  " 

"  Yes,  that  was  it !  I'm  glad  to  see  you  smile,  though  it 
is  at  my  expense.  Yes,  I  was  jealous !  ferociously  so,  I 
can  tell  you ;  and  so  I  watched  Linder,  yielding  and  yield 
ing,  while  each  step  drew  him  farther  from  me.  I  felt  as  I 
suppose  other  women  do  under  such  circumstances  —  that  I 
could  kill  her  if  there  was  no  law  against  murder.  Well, 
to  make  a  long  story  short,  Anna  Welman  (she  was  then) 
saw  it  all,  and,  I  dare  say,  enjoyed  my  misery  as  much  as  I 
supposed  she  sympathized  with  my  suffering.  Thinking, 
perhaps,  that  I  would  then  and  there  confront  her,  she  told 
me  the  story.  How  she  got  hold  of  it,  is  more  than  I  can 
divine ;  but  she  did,  somewhere,  and  you  may  be  sure  I 
was  horror-struck.  Much  as  I  supposed  I  had  reason  to 
dislike  her,  I  was  loath  to  believe  her  all  that  Anna  in 
sinuated.  For  the  first  time  in  my  life  I  began  to  reflect 
This,  then,  was  the  cause  of  all  Hagar's  coldness  and  dis 
dain  ;  this  the  reason  why  she  so  imperatively  shut  herself 
from  the  society  of  those  who  would  have  been  proud  to 
recognize  her." 

"What  are  you  and  Lizzie  doing  all  this  time,  out  there 
in  the  balcony  ?  "  sang  out  a  voice  from  the  party. 

"  What  is  that  to  you  ?  "  was  her  saucy  answer. 

"  Am  I  tiring  you  ?  "  she  questioned  of  Walter. 

"  No  !  go  on  ! " 

"  Walter,  I  had  to  watch  myself  from  that  time,  as  much 
as  I  did  her ;  and  I  fully  believe,  had  I  seen  Hagar  en 
couraging  Linder  by  a  single  look,  or  felt  that,  in  the  least, 


HAGAR     THE     MARTYR.  203 

she  endeavored  to  estrange  his  heart  from  me,  I  should 
have  exposed  her,  and  crushed  her  back  into  the  horrible 
gulf  of  infamy  from  which  she  had  so  nobly  saved  herself." 

"  Do  let  us  have  some  of  that  privacy,"  again  called  out 
the  voice  from  within. 

"  You  go  to  grass  !     I'm  coming  in  a  moment." 

"  Well,"  said  Walter. 

"  I  don't  know  how  I  felt  when  I  next  came  face  to  face 
with  Hagar.  I  believe  I  flushed  up,  and  grew  pale  again, 
as  if  I,  instead  of  she,  had  been  the  aggressor.  I  only  re 
member  turning  suddenly  away,  that  she  might  believe  I 
did  not  see  the  hand  extended  for  its  friendly  clasp.  I  was 
ashamed  that  I  had  ever  been  jealous  of  one  like  her ;  and 
yet  I  couldn't  help  it.  About  that  time,  Linder,  I  heard, 
offered  himself,  and  was  refused.  The  same  night  I  met 
Hagar  in  the  street,  and  she  looked  so  depressed,  so  full  of 
care  and  woe-begone,  that  I  forgot  every  thing  but  her  suf 
fering.  '  If  ever  you  want  a  true  friend,'  said  I,  '  come  to 
me.  Nothing  can  make  me  love  you  less  than  I  do ! ' 
'  Nothing,'  said  she,  in  her  low,  pitiful  voice,  and  I  could 
see  the  tears  struggling  into  her  eyes  !  '  Nothing,'  said  I, 
emphasizing  the  word  -to  its  fullest  extent.  I'm  sure  she 
understood  me,  for  she  gave  me  a  glance  so  full  of  gratitude 
that  if  at  that  moment  the  time  had  come  to  separate  from 
her,  and  cast  her  off,  or  abide  with  her  and  share  her  dis 
grace,  I  should  have  chosen  the  latter.  It  might  have  been 
wrong  for  me  iiftie  eyes  of  the  world ;  but  I  should  have 


204  HAGAR     THE     MARTYR. 

been  happier  for  the  approval  of  my  own  conscience,  and 
you  know  I  don't  greatly  fear  any  thing  else." 

"Walter  pressed  the  little  hand  lying  upon  his  arm  with 
fervent  warmth,  while  she  went  on. 

"  From  that  time,  "Walter,  I  watched  her  with  admira 
tion.  If  there  had  been  any  tampering  with  duty,  any 
swerving  from  the  most  discreet  path  of  honor,  any  specious 
reasonings,  calculated  to  pervert  the  minds  she  taught,  any 
attempt  to  reconcile  wrong  with  right,  I  most  have  shud 
dered  away  from  her,  even  if  I  had  kept  my  reason  from 
all  but  myself." 

"  But,  Lizzie,  it  is  the  hypocrisy  I  despise  ;  plotting  and 
scheming  through  all  these  long  years  to  save  herself  from 
the  contempt  of  the  good." 

"  Walter,  what  could  she  do?  You,  at  least,  should  have 
charity  for  her  ! " 

"  She  should  have  had  courage  ;  courage  to  face  the  pun 
ishment  of  the  crime  she  had  found  courage  to  commit. 
Courage  at  all  hazards ! " 

"  And  what  would  have  been  the  result  ?  " 

Walter  was  silent. 

"  "What  would  have  been  the  result,  even  of  her  having 
told  you  ?  Walter,  you  know  that  out  of  the  world  she  has 
never  loved  mortal  but  you.  She  was  crazy  —  insane  when 
she  heard  of  your  purposed  marriage.  You  cannot  under 
stand  the  kind  of  insanity  I  mean.  Nobody  but  a  woman 
can  understand  a  woman's  grief  to  imagpe  the  form  she 


HAGAK     THE     MARTYR.  205 

loves  in  the  arms  of  a  rival.  Like  maternal  anguish,  there 
is  nothing  which  can  be  compared  to  it." 

"  But  why  need  she  keep  up  the  deception  ?  That  man 
is  in  town  —  in  communication  with  her  now." 

"  I  don't  believe  it ! " 

"  I  have  seen  him  ;  and  more  than  that,  she  has  appoint 
ed  a  meeting  with  him." 

"  I  don't  believe  it,"  exclaimed  Lizzie,  with  a  petulant 
stamp. 

"  Here  is  the  letter,  containing  the  request." 

Walter  produced  the  letter  from  his  pocket.  Lizzie  read 
it  attentively  and  curiously. 

"  I've  seen  that  writing  before.  "Walter,  there  is  some 
confounded  plotting  going  on  here.  This  is  Anna  McVer- 
non's  work.  Hark !  they  are  calling  for  us  again  in  the 
parlor.  If  Hagar  is  there,  treat  her  kindly  for  my  sake. 
She  has  suffered  a  great  deal  more  for  you  than  you 
know  of." 

"  This  is  the  night  of  the  appointment." 

"  At  nine  o'clock,"  said  Lizzie,  consulting  first  the  letter, 
and  then  her  little  French  watch,  which  hung  among  other 
trinkets  at  her  side.  "  Nine  o'clock,  and  it  is  now  half  past 
eight." 

Another  call  from  the  parlor,  and  the  sound  of  approach 
ing  footsteps  broke  up  their  consultation. 

"  What  a  fiend  that  Anna  McVernon  is ! "  thought  Lizzie, 
as  they  retraced  their  steps  to  the  parlor.  The  company 
had  increased.  The  lion  had  come ;  and  there  was  a  very 
18 


206  HAGAB     THE     MARTTR. 

general  excitement  afloat  in  consequence  of  his  presence, 
when  Lizzie,  like  a  fresh  sunbeam,  entered  the  parlor. 

"  Here  she  is,"  sang  out  half  a  dozen  voices  at  once,  in 
cluding  Mr.  Western.  Poor  fellow !  he  could  get  only  a 
scolding,  any  how,  when  he  returned ;  and  he  thought  he 
might  as  well  be  hung  for  an  old  sheep  as  a  lamb.  Conse 
quently  his  admiration  points  were  rather  luminous  during 
the  evening. 

"  "Well,  you  are  not  so  very  formidable,  I'm  sure,"  said 
Lizzie,  turning  up  her  saucy,  bright  face  into  that  of  the 
mesmerizer's.  "  I'm  not  afraid  of  you.  Mesmerize  me  !  " 

It  was  no  place  for  dignity,  or  propriety,  or  conventional 
manners  where  Lizzie  Linder  was.  So,  in  a  very  short 
time,  the  whole  party  felt  as  much  at  home  as  if  they  had 
met  on  those  familiar  terms  for  years.  Among  other  changes 
which  troubled  Lizzie  exceedingly,  was  that  in  the  charac 
ter  of  Ellen  Willard.  From  the  rackety,  almost  hoidenish 
girl,  she  had  settled  down  into  the  sedate,  thoughtful  woman. 
Lawrence  had  assumed  unbounded  influence  over  her.  She 
had  become  one  of  his  most  apt  subjects  ;  and,  although  Mr. 
Veazie,  and  in  fact  all  her  friends,  opposed  it,  she  seemed 
of  a  sudden  to  possess  a  most  indomitable  will,  which  would 
brook  no  restraint.  It  was  the  triumph  of  mind  over  mind  ; 
a  proof  that  mesmerism,  if  not  a  science,  was  at  least  an 
existence,  and  a  power  capable  of  enormous  abuse,  if  in  the 
nature  of  a  bad  man.  Strong,  powerful  character  had  al 
ways  possessed  unusual  fascination  for  Ellen,  and  she  had 
often  been  irresistibly  drawn  towards  her  dark,  stern  guar- 


HAGAR     THE      MARTYR.  207 

dian  by  this  influence.  It  was  a  singular  fact,  too,  that  in 
the  absence  of  Lawrence,  her  spirits  would  acquire  very 
nearly  their  old  healthful  tone,  and  she  would  endeavor  to 
make  amends  to  her  guardian  for  any  derelidtion  from  the 
duty  she  owed  him.  She  had  possessed  herself  of  the  secret 
of  Lawrence  —  knew  she  had  already  claims  upon  his  af 
fection  which  could  not  be  overlooked,  and  consequently 
never  dreamed  of  him  but  in  the  way  of  friendship.  Vea- 
zie  had  grown  more  indulgent,  as  he  saw  the  gradual  de 
clension  of  his  power,  and  more  affectionate  as  he  believed 
her  entirely  indifferent  to  him.  But  Lizzie,  she  was  a  reg 
ular  little  plotter,  if  any  good  was  to  come  of  plotting;  and 
she  had  already  a  kink  in  that  curly  little  head  of  hers  to 
put  a  spoke  in  the  wheel  of  Mr.  Lawrence.  The  serpent 
glance  of  his  eye  fell  harmless  upon  her  heedless  heartland 
he  might  exhaust  his  mental  resources  without  opening  her 
eyes  a  fraction  wider  for  his  superior  eloquence.  Eloquence 
was  no  novelty  in  the  history  of  Lizzie.  It  was  her  ele 
ment.  She  took  to  it  as  naturally  as  lambs  to  clover.  She 
had  kept  the  company  of  superior  men  from  her  earliest 
girlhood,  and  was  rather  proud,  if  any  thing,  that  nature 
had  gifted  her  with  brilliant  qualities  of  conversation,  as 
well  as  person.  There  was  food  for  her  keen,  provoking 
little  ways  in  the  different  characters  met  together  on  that 
evening.  Viola  usually  dreaded  her  approach,  for  the  queer 
way  she  had  of  making  her  feel  uncomfortable ;  but  this 
evening  there  was  too  much  serviceable  work  to  be  done,  to 
allow  a  thought  for  the  silly,  infatuated  old  maid.  She  saw 


208  HAGAR     THE     MARTYR. 

Hagar  leaving  the  room  with  a  hurried,  frightened  face, 
just  as  herself  and  Walter  entered  at  an  opposite  door. 
She  missed  him  a  few  minutes  after,  and  feeling  conscious  of 
his  errand,  she  was  abstracted,  absent-minded,  and  any  thing 
but  Lizzie  Linder,  till  his  return.  He  came  in  a  shade  paler 
than  usual,  but  his  laugh  rang  out  more  musical  than  ever. 
Very  soon  Hagar  returned,  and  joining  Anna  McVernon, 
passed  out  into  another  room.  The  eyes  of  Lizzie  and 
Walter  met  —  his  so  bright  and  fierce,  hers  so  deprecating 
and  pitiful.  To  change  the  current  of  thought,  Lizzie  pro 
posed  going  to  the  music  room.  It  was  at  that  hour  in  the 
evening  of  a  fashionable  party  when  wines  have  done  their 
work  in  the  way  of  unlocking  tongues  and  hearts.  Miss 
Margaretta  talked  louder  and  more  peremptory  than  ever. 
Viola  clung  to  her  idol's  other  arm  with  sickly  sentimental 
ity.  Ida,  lazy  and  tired  of  every  thing  and  every  body, 
(apparently)  remained  behind,  hah0  asleep  upon  the  lounge. 
But  there  were  a  pair  of  bewildering  black  eyes,  which  not 
all  her  efforts  could  shut  out  from  her  thoughts.  And  so 
the  music  swells  out  in  rich,  harmonious  gushes,  for  Lizzie 
is  an  accomplished  singer,  and  she  was  the  musician  for  the 
time.  Song  after  song  is  sung  ;  some  sweetly  sentimental, 
some  hilarious  and  wild.  Now  and  then  the  old,  cracked 
voice  of  Viola  breaks  out  in  chorus,  a  good  deal  out  of 
tune,  and  quite  out  of  words,  giving  droll  little  Lizzie  a 
chance  to  say  something  funny ;  something  to  make  Viola 
grow  red  and  hot,  and  make  the  rest  of  the  company  to 
laugh,  all  but  Miss  Margaretta,  who,  having  drank  wine 


HAGAR     THE     MARTYR.  209 

enough  to  be  sociable,  comprehends  that  there  is  a  meaning 
in  the  jokes,  which  makes  her  glare  at  Lizzie  with  her 
great,  hard  eyes ;  and,  walking  boldly  up  to  the  piano,  she 
stands  behind  Lizzie's  chair,  as  if  to  defy  her  to  turn  her 
into  ridicule.  But  Lizzie  only  looks  saucily  up  at  the  wav 
ing  plume  which  decorates  her  dressy  head  gear,  and  bids 
her  look  out  for  the  gas  light,  and  not  set  herself  afire ; 
upon  which  her  honor  gives  a  sort  of  a  snort,  which  sends 
the  feather  vibrating,  as  hi  a  sudden  breeze,  and  marches 
off  to  hold  converse  with  Mrs.  "Wehnan,  under  the  shadow 
of  the  window  curtain.  Again  music  drifts  up  from  the 
heart  of  the  beautiful  woman  who  presides  at  the  piano. 
"  Then  you'll  remember  me,"  is  the  song  which  seems 
speaking  to  the  multitude,  so  sadly  is  it  given.  It  was 
Walter's  favorite  song.  The  evening  was  warm,  and  he 
stood  leaning  against  the  doorway  leading  to  the  garden. 
Hagar  sat  in  the  embrazure  of  the  window,  so  near  to  him 
that  the  passing  breeze  brushed  her  drapery  against  his 
form,  but  he  knew  it  not.  That  song  !  All  the  evening  he 
had  been  trying  to  bear,  unshaken,  the  sorrows  which 
seemed  piling  themselves  around  him.  But  as  the  last 
cadence  of  that  song  died  away  in  echo,  a  sudden  vision  of 
all  he  had  loved  in  the  past,  of  all  he  had  hpped  for  in  the 
future,  rushed  over  him  in  a  flood  of  bitter  memory.  In 
that  moment  of  anguish  his  hand  was  suddenly  clasped  with 
wild  vehemence,  and  Hagar  stood  weeping  by  his  side. 

*Do  remember  jne,  DO  love,  DO  pity  me,"  she  mur 
mured,  through  her  passionate  tears. 
18* 


210  HAGAR     THE      MARTYR. 

The  impulse  was  to  clasp  her  to  his  heart,  and  hold  her 
there  in  spite  of  fate  or  any  other  power  that  sought  to  part 
them  ;  but  the  revulsion  came,  and  he  tore  her  hands  apart 
and  flung  them  petulantly  away. 

"  Don't  be  such  a  cursed  actress,"  he  murmured,  passing 
away  from  her  to  another  part  of  the  room.  That  moment 
of  passionate  grief  only  Lizzie  saw,  and  her  heart  bled  for 
them  both. 

"  Command  yourself,"  said  she,  gathering  her  arm  around 
Hagar,~and  taking  her  into  the  shadow  where  no  one  could 
see  her  suffering. 

An  addition  to  the  company,  in  the  form  of  editors, 
artists,  and  other  late  birds,  gave  her  an  opportunity  to 
compose  herself  before  the  persons  present  noticed  her  ex 
citement.  She  was  not  left  long  in  her  retirement;  for, 
although  she  was  no  flirt,  she  was  very  popular  with  the 
class  of  persons  comprising  the  literati  of  Boston. 

Once  more  all  was  enjoyment  and  hilarity.  The  bril 
liancy  of  Hagar's  nature  stood  her  wonderfully  in  hand  on 
this  occasion.  "  Command  herself! "  She  followed  the 
counsel  bravely.  She  laughed  with  the  gayest,  jested  with 
the  wittiest,  and  argued  with  the  wisest,  till  even  Walter 
began  to  think  that  a  woman  like  her  was  worth  the  wear 
ing,  even  though  circumstances  so  much  to  be  regretted 
had  overclouded  her  life. 

In  the  very  midst  of  a  fi-yi-yah  chorus,  which  had  been 
given  with  more  regard  to  mirth  than  to  music,  a  stfHll 
scream  started  the  party  to  their  feet,  and  sent  them  off  on 


HAGAR     THE     MARTYR.  211 

an  exploring  expedition  to  the  room  from  whence  the  sound 
proceeded.  A  scene  met  their  gaze  so  pitiful  and  yet  so 
ludicrous,  that  but  for  hospitality's  sake  I  fear  the  guests 
would  have  indulged  in  a  laugh  quite  as  hearty  as  any  one 
that  had  scared  the  echoes  that  evening.  In  the  arms  of 
Wimple,  poor  old  Viola  lay  in  a  deep  swoon.  It  seemed, 
from  the  confessions  of  the  crestfallen,  that,  missing  Ida, 
he  had  wandered  off  in  quest  of  her.  Seeing  some  one 
lying  asleep  on  the  sofa,  and  supposing,  in  the  dark,  that  it 
was  she,  he  had  gathered  her  up  by  his  side,  and  in  all 
human  probability  had  told  his  love  in  rather  more  vehe 
ment  terms  than  came  within  the  limit  of  maiden  modesty, 
though  not  quite  fancy  free.  He  denies  the  imputation, 
however,  to  this  day,  and  stoutly  affirms,  if  there  was  any 
aggressor  in  the  case,  it  was  herself.  Ida  is  satisfied  that 
he  neither  committed  any  indiscretion  of  sufficient  weight 
to  make  a  butterfly  faint,  or,  what's  more,  had  any  inten 
tions  in  that  quarter  that  were  not  the  most  strictly  honor 
able.  However,  he  bears  the  weight  of  the  joke  very  good 
humoredly,  and  has  his  own  ideas  of  love-making  in  the 
dark.  Of  course  the  contretemps  broke  up  the  party ;  but 
from  certain  loud  laughs  which  startled  the  sleepers  from 
their  dreams,  as  the  male  portion  of  the  company  threaded 
the  deserted  streets,  the  presumption  is,  that  a  pretty  con 
siderable  of  a  roasting  was  going  on  among  them. 


CHAPTEE    XX. 

THE  POET'S  CAPTURE.  —  HAGAR. 

"  Now,  that  is  very  pretty,"  said  lazy  little  Ida,  as  she 
sat  in  her  favorite  attitude  by  Wimple's  feet,  with  her  arms 
supporting  a  book  upon  his  knees. 

"  What's  pretty,  Ida  ?  Those  pictures  are  all  horrid  nui 
sances  to  me ! "  he  replied.  "  What's  pretty  ?  " 

"  This  cottage  furniture,  and  this  pretty  French  bed 
stead." 

"  We  will  have  one  like  it  when  we  are  married,"  he  an 
swered,  while  a  roguish  smile  played  about  his  lips,  in 
which  there  was  a  tinge  of  misehief. 

"  So  we  will !  "  exclaimed  Ida,  quite  innocently. 

Wimple  flung  the  book  to  the  farthest  corner  of  the  room, 
saying,  — 

"  Well,  you  are  the  most  unaccountable  girl  I  ever  did 
see !  Do  you  know  I've  said  something  impertinent  to 
you  ?  Do  you  know  you  ought  to  blush  and  look  annoyed  ? 
Why,  any  other  girl  would  have  boxed  my  ears  soundly, 
and  have  served  me  right." 

"  Would  they  ?  " 

«  Would  they  ?     Of  course  they  would." 

"  What  for  ?  "  she  innocently  asked. 

(212) 


HAGAR     THE     MARTYR.  213 

This  was  a  poser  for  Wimple.  Ida  was  too  thoroughly 
indolent ;  so  perpetually  calm,  and  so  beyond  or  beneath  a 
sensation  of  any  kind,  that  he  was  beginning  to  feel  a 
little  doubt  about  her  capability  of  loving.  Her  very  calm 
ness  had  amused  him  at  first,  and  her  quietude  had  been 
the  oil  to  still  the  waves  of  his  more  tempestuous  nature. 
This  apathy  had  provoked  Lawrence  to  try  his  skill  upon 
her ;  but  he  was  equally  a  failure,  for  when  he  would  im- 
•agine  her  safe  in  a  mesmeric  trance,  a  nearer  examination 
would  find  her  dozing  off  into  a  natural  sleep.  To  Wim 
ple's  interrogations  as  to  the  state  of  her  affections,  she 
would  invariably  answer,  "  I  love  you  better  than  I  love 
any  body  else."  Sometimes  this  honest  declaration  would 
satisfy  him,  but  of  late  he  was  beginning  to  feel  as  if  his 
nature  would  require  some  demonstration  more  positive 
than  this. 

Ida  was  crossing  the  room  to  recover  her  book,  when  she 
caught  the  glimpse  of  Lizzie,  cantering  up  alone  to  the 
door.  Without  'dismounting,  she  motioned  her  out,  and 
called  for  Wimple  to  follow  her. 

"  I  want  the  loan  of  Wimple  for  an  hour  or  two,"  said 
she,  laughing  and. tossing  away  her  curls.  "I  ordered  a 
horse  at  the  stable,  as  I  came  along.  Ah,  here  it  comes 
now." 

"  But  where  are  you  going,  Lion  ?  "  That  was  Ida's  pet 
name  for  the  poet. 

"  O,  only  out  to  Burlingame's,"  Lizzie  answered  for  him. 
In  a  moment  after,  the  two  were  cantering  off  over  the 


214  HAGAB     THE     MARTYR. 

pavement,  making  it  ring  again.  It  was  a  prerogative  of 
Lizzie's  to  pick  up  any  of  her  friends  at  any  time,  and 
press  them  into  her  service.  She  was  so  generally  under 
stood,  that  even  the  most  inveterate  gossip  failed  to  make 
food  for  scandal  out  of  any  such  material. 

"  I  want  your  aid,"  said  Lizzie  to  her  companion,  when 
they  were  well  out  of  hearing. 

"  In  what  manner  ?  " 

"  There  is  a  breach  between  Hagar  and  Walter,  which 
must  be  healed.  It  is  all  that  Anna  McVernon's  doings. 
By  the  by,  they  say  that  McVernon  has  eloped  with  that 
adopted  daughter  of  his.  They  have  neither  of  them  been 
heard  of  this  three  days.  I  don't  much  blame  him,  for  that 
wife  of  his  is  an  awful  wretch.  She  imagines  herself  to 
be  in  love  with  Walter ;  as  if  she  could  be  in  love  with 
any  thing  !  She  knows  that  in  my  heart  I  have  sworn  to 
defeat  her.  It  is  woman  against  woman,  and  you  must 
help  me." 

"  But  what  am  I  to  do  ?  " 

"  She  has  somehow  got  hold  of  some  secret  about  Hagar. 
You  know  we  all  have  our  faults,  —  too  many,  I  think,  to 
be  hard  upon  the  faults  of  others,  —  and  it  seems  that  a 
great  many  years  ago,  when  Hagar  was  quite  a  child,  in 
fact  —  well,  I  can't  tell  you.  You'll  hear  of  it  soon  enough, 
tor  ill  news  travels  fast.  Now,  what  I  want  of  you  is,  to 
keep  some  trace  of  her.  I  have  reason  to  believe  there  is 
a  place  here,  no  more  respectable  than  it  ought  to  be,  where 
Anna  picks  up  all  the  disgraceful  items  going.  If  you 


HAGAB     THE     MARTYR.  215 

could  find  out  where  it  is,  and  outbid  her,  I  have  hopes 
that  all  will  be  well  —  between  Walter  and  Hagar,  I  mean. 
Of  course,  the  good  opinion  of  those  whose  friendship  is 
worth  the  having,  will  not  be  shaken  by  the  rumor  about 
her,  for  every  one  knows  that  Hagar  has  been  before  the 
public  for  many  years  immaculate,  at  least  as  nearly  so  as 
a  woman  in  her  position  can  be.  It  seems  this  secret  was 
what  kept  her  from  marrying  "Walter  years  ago  ;  and  gos 
sips,  of  course,  have  seen  great  impropriety  in  their  close 
intimacy  under  the  circumstances ;  but  if  her  name  has  been 
mixed  up  with  his  in  all  these  years,  it  has  never  for  a 
moment  been  associated  with  that  of  any  other  man ;  and 
that's  more  than  many  of  our  sex  can  boast  of." 

Lizzie  laughed  her  low,  sweet  laugh,  which  seemed  to 
say  that  scandal  didn't  spoil  her  appetite. 

"  You  see,"  she  went  on,  "  Hagar  is  a  sort  of  public 
property.  Men  that  were  men  would  scorn  to  persecute 
her ;  and  she  takes  good  care  that  if  women  patronize  her, 
it  shall  be  of  their  own  accord.  But  there  are  little  gad 
flies,  things  sent  into  the  world  to  fill  up  the  chinks  and 
crevices  of  society,  that  have  no  occupation  so  tasteful  to 
them  as  that  of  stinging.  It  is  these  which  will  fatten  on 
the  discovery." 

In  low,  earnest  conversation  they  at  length  reach  their 
destination,  and,  alighting,  they  appropriated  a  parlor,  while 
Wimple  ordered  one  of  those  capital  dinners  for  which 
Burlingame's  hotel  is  so  famous. 

For  a  long  time  after  they  left,  Ida  wandered  restlessly 


216  HAGAR     THE     MARTYR. 

through  the  rooms  of  the  Misses  Pinchin.  It  was  "  take 
care,"  and  "  get  out  of  the  way,"  and  "  do  go  to  your  room," 
from  all  quarters.  Never  before  had  she  felt  so  alone,  so 
uncared  for,  so  in  every  body's  way.  Then  she  began  to 
miss  Wimple,  and  to  blame  Lizzie  for  taking  him  away ; 
and  at  last  she  did  what  would  have  rejoiced  her  poet- lover 
exceedingly  —  worked  herself  up  into  a  desperate  fit  of 
jealousy,  rang  the  bell  furiously  for  the  servant,  and  before 
it  could  be  answered,  seized  her  bonnet,  and,  in  her  haste  to 
escape,  nearly  ran  into  the  open  mouth  of  Miss  Margaretta, 
who  was  coming  up  stairs  with  an  inglorious  slop  pail,  — 
only  for  exercise,  —  and  I  should  be  the  last  one  to  doubt  it. 
This  'fashionable  boarding  house  keeping  is  a  great  institu 
tion.  I  tried  a  spell  of  it  once.  Paid  enormously  for 
nothing  to  eat ;  found  the  guests  in  my  private  store  of 
luxuries  without  my  permission,  and  swapped  off  a  darling 
little  gold  repeater  with  the  elegant  landlady  for  a  galvan 
ized  bit  of  trumpery,  —  my  first  and  last  attempt  at  swap 
ping,  —  only  to  be  told,  when  I  accused  her  of  the  imposi 
tion,  that  she  "  didn't  know  the  difference  between  one  and 
the  other,"  —  and  I  don't  think  she  did.  Any  one  wishing 
to  see  the  elephant  can't  do  better  than  take  a  week  or  so 
of  a  fashionable  boarding  house.  In  less  time  than  it  has 
taken  me  to  make  this  digression,  Ida  had  chartered  a 
horse,  inquired  her  route,  and  put  for  Brighton,  at  a  gait 
which  would  have  astonished  the  owner  of  the  horse.  It 
certainly  astonished  Wimple  and  Lizzie,  who  caught  sight 
of  her,  footing  it  down  the  hill,  and  for  a  moment  they 


HAGAB     THE     MABTYR.  217 

feared  her  horse  had  run  away.  Not  so,  however ;  for, 
•with  a  pretty  piece  of  management,  she  brought  him  quietly 
up  to  the  door,  flung  herself  from  his  back  and  the  reins  to 
the  hostler,  and  confronted  them  with  a  flushed  and  angry 
face,  which  had  the  effect  of  a  comic  almanac  upon  Lizzie. 

"  "Well,  I  would  laugh  if  I  was  you,"  she  retorted.  "  I 
won't  stand  it  —  I  won't !  You  have  no  business  to  coax 
"Wimple  off  in  this  manner.  If  is  too  bad  of  you.  I  won 
der  how  you  would  like  it."  Wimple  tried  to  put  his  arm 
about  her.  "  Let  me  be ;  let  me  be,  I  say !  You  are  a 
false,  bad  man  !  I'm  going  home  again  right  away,  and  if 
you  are  not  there  in  half  an  hour,  you'll  never  see  me 
again ! " 

And  out  she  bounced,  leaving  Lizzie  convulsed  with 
laughter.  The  next  moment  she  might  have  been  seen 
making  the  same  speed  towards  home  which  had  character 
ized  her  coming  out,  never  once  looking  behind  her  to  see 
if  her  injunction  had  been  carried  out.  If  there  are  any 
lovers  reading  my  story,  I  needn't  say  to  them  that  "Wimple 
wasn't  a  minute  over  his  half  hour  behind  her,  or  that  from 
that  day  he  never  had  occasion  to  complain  of  too  much 
calm ;  for  every  look  he  gave  any  other  woman,  he  had  to 
pay  toll  of  many  promises,  which,  from  my  experience  of 
human  nature,  I'm  inclined  to  think  was  any  thing  but 
agreeable.  Such  quantity  of  fibs,  though  very  white  ones, 
must  have  troubled  his  conscience  considerably.  However, 
sometimes  he  let  her  have  her  own  head,  and  say  and  think 
just  what  she  pleased  ;  at  other  times,  when  his  temper  was 
19 


218  HA  GAR     THE     MARTYR. 

a  little  crabbed,  or  when  by  accident  he  had  got  out  of  bed 
head  foremost,  (the  wrong  way,  sages  say,)  he  would  take 
her  up  so  shortly  in  the  curb  that  only  a  good  crying  spell 
would  render  her  at  all  comfortable  in  her  gait.  This,  to 
gether  with  the  spoiling  she  got  from  other  quarters,  went 
near  to  undo  the  work  of  Dame  Nature,  who  had  voted  at 
the  onset  to  make  her  a  very  lovable,  amiable,  lazy  little 
item  among  the  steadier  items  of  society. 


CHAPTER    XXI. 

LIZZIE  THE  MEDIUM. 

"  I'LL  give  you  up,  Hagar,  I  certainly  will,  if  you  don't 
come  down  off  of  that  high  perch  of  yours,  and  be  a  little 
more  reasonable.  Come  —  come  down  with  me  into  the 
parlor  before  the  company  have  time  to  discuss  you.  I 
never  saw  such  a  firebrand !  You'd  keep  me  hi  hot  water 
from  now  till  next  day  after  never,  if  I  humored  your  ca 
prices.  Come ! " 

"I  won't!" 

"  Why^not,  Hagar?  I  declare  you  are  the  wildest,  the 
most  inconsistent,  the  most  incomprehensible  creature  I  ever 
did  see  ;  there's  no  method  to  your  madness  —  I'll  take  my 
oath  of  that.  I'm  discouraged  —  I  certainly  am." 

"  Why  don  t  you  leave  me,  then  ?  Why  don't  you  go 
down  and  amuse  the  company  ?  I  shall  be  better  without 
you,  any  how." 

"There's  gratitude  for  you  now  —  after  all  the  battles 
I've  fought  for  you  t«o  !  I  shouldn't  think  you  would  treat 
me  in  this  manner.  Hagar,  indeed  I  shouldn't." 

"  Forgive,  Lizzie  —  dear  Lizzie !  I  wonder  you  don't 
get  discouraged.  I  should ;  but  you  can't  think  how  I  suf 
fer  I" 

(219) 


220  HA6AR     THE     MARTYR. 

"  Can't  I  though  !  But  that's  no  excuse  for  shocking  the 
whole  company ;  let  alone  piercing  "Walter's  arm  with  that 
confounded  dagger !  What  the  old  boy  you  wear  it  for  I 
don't  see !  I  should  serve  you  right  to  have  you  arrested 
for  carrying  concealed  weapons ; "  and  Lizzie  laughed 
through  her  tears ;  for  she  had  been  crying  through  her 
anger. 

"  I  was  wrong,  Lizzie ;  I  know  I  was !  but  I  couldn't 
help  it.  To  see  him  promenading  the  room  with  that 
woman  on  his  arm,  carrying  her  shawl  and  her  bouquet ; 
and  then  to  have  him  smile  in  my  face  so  audaciously  — 
Lizzie,  I  couldn't  help  it ;  you  would  have  done  the  same 
under  the  same  circumstance.  I  didn't  think  I  ever  could 
have  been  so  angry  with  him,  and  he  to  take  it  all  so  coolly. 
As  for  shocking  the  company,  that's  nothing  new  for  me, 
you  know ;  I  wish  I  could  have  shocked  her.  I  would 
have  galvanized  the  triumph  out  of  her  by  a  shock  that 
she  wouldn't  have  forgotten  in  a  hurry.  I  shah1  do  some 
thing  horrible  some  tune,  I  know.  I  wish  Walter  wouldn't 
tempt  me  so  —  I  get  so,  so  angry." 

"  Angry  indeed  !  It  is  madness,  Hagar  —  perfect  mad 
ness.  No  lunatic  ever  needed  a  strait  jacket  more  than 
you  do  at  such  times  of  frenzy  !  As  for  Walter,  you  can't 
stir  him  with  your  passion  any  more*than  you  could  stir  a 
mountain." 

**  It  is  that  which  exasperates  me  so." 

"  His  calmness  is  his  great  point.  Catch  him  in  a  pas 
sion  —  why,  I  have  known  him  for  years,  and  never  saw  him 


HAGAR     THE     MARTYR.  221 

ruffled  in  the  least.  I  do  believe  a  mine  might  explode  be 
neath  his  feet,  and  not  disturb  him  in  the  least.  And  the 
worst  of  it  is  —  yet,  no  !  not  the  worst !  nothing  could  be 
worse  than  your  ungovernable  passion  —  but  every  inch  of 
ground  which  you  lose  by  your  impetuosity,  that  woman,  as 
you  call  her,  gains.  She  is  free  now  —  handsome,  cunning, 
and  shrewd  enough  to  see  the  points  you  overlook  ;  and  has 
duplicity  enough  to  make  them  tell.  Walter  lovesyou,  but 
you  must  tame  that  lion  heart  of  yours  before  he  trusts  his 
to  your  keeping.  Walter  dislikes  conflicts,  and  always  did, 

while  you — you " 

."Well  —  I  what?" 

"  Why,  there  is  no  medium  to  your  temper  —  that  is  all. 
You  are  frantic  in  every  emotion;  extravagant  in  every 
impulse ;  impetuous  in  every  thought.  Walter  is  the 
boundary  of  your  religion ;  which  is  the  first  error,  and  the 
greatest.  When  there  is  peace  between  you,  the  bliss  of 
paradise  would  pale  before  your  extravagant  joy  ;  but  when 
your  wills  clash,  flint  and  steel  are  nothing  to  the  sparks  of 
temper  which  they  fling  out.  This  evening  for  instance." 

"  I  can't  help  it." 

"  You  must  help  it,  Hagar,  or  make  up  your  mind  to  lose 
Walter  altogether." 

"  Better  lose  him  altogether,  Lizzie,  than  to  bear  what  I 
bear." 

"  Well,  whose  fault  is  it  ?     Only  see  the  absurdity  of  the 
thing!     There   is    hardly  a  'day  passes    that    something 
does  not  occur  to  offend  you,  and  off  goes  a  letter  full  of 
19  » 


9W     * 
HAQAR     THE     MARTYR. 


bitterness,  telling  him  never  to  come  again.  He  keeps 
away,  as  of  course  he  will,  till  you  send  another  letter  as 
passionately  humble  as  that  was  passionately  defiant.  And 
then,  when  he  answers  it  in  person,  his  calm,  comfortable 
nonchalant  manner  enrages  you  to  madness.  No  wonder 
he  calls  you  Tempest !  you  are  a  tempest  —  an  imbodied 
storm  —  and  the  worst  of  it  is,  you  are  beating  your  hail 
stones  in  the  face  of  your  own  destiny." 

"You  point  out  the  disease  minutely  enough;  why  not 
say  something  of  the  remedy  ?  " 

"  That  must  lie  in  your  own  hands.  If  you  would  really 
think  seriously  upon  the  subject,  you  would  see  as  I  do 
how  necessary  for  your  happiness  it  is  that  you  curb  your 
wild  impulses.  All  the  wrath  in  the  world  would  never 
impress  "Walter  so  much  as  one  gentle  word ;  while  it 
keeps  him  from  your  side,  and  makes  you  suffer  as  you  are 
suffering  now.  O  Hagar,  if  I  could  only  break  you  of 
this  unwomanly  habit,  there  is  no  sacrifice  in  the  world  I 
would  not  be  willing  to  make.  And  people  all  along  have 
thought  you  so  calm  and  self-possessed !  But  it  is  not  what 
the  people  think ;  it  is  your  own  peace  that  is  at  stake.  You 
know,  Hagar  dear,  I'm  not  one  of  the  counsellors  who  con 
tinually  preach  the  duty  we  owe  to  the  world;  it  is  the 
duty  we  owe  to  ourselves,  and  to  Him  who  gave  us  tempers 
to  subdue  :  that's  my  argument.  But  we  stay  talking  here, 
while  the  company  wait  and  wonder  below." 

"  But,  Lizzie,  only  tell  me  what  to  do." 

«  Do !     Why,  your  own  heart,  if  you  consult  it  aright, 


. 

HAGAR     THE     MARTYR.  223 

will  tell  you  what  to  do.  For  words,  give  him  works.  He 
must  see,  before  he  believes  ;  but  no  frenzy  of  passion  ever 
can  convince  him.  By  the  by,  what  were  you  doing  at 
the  judge's  this  evening  ?  " 

"  I  wanted  to  ask  "Walter  about  that.  Anna  said  he  was 
arrested  for  some  paltry  sum,  and  was  detained  there  till  he 
could  get  bail." 

"Who?    Walter?" 

"  Yes  ! " 

"Ha,  ha,  ha!  That  is  funny.  You  didn't  believe  it  — 
you  couldn't  have  been  stupid  enough  to  believe  it !  Well, 
well,  well,  well  —  after  that  nothing  will  surprise  me.  Some 
time  —  I  have  not  time  now  —  I'll  tell  you  why  I  asked. 
There  are  wheels  within  wheels  sometimes." 

"  Perhaps  you  would  have  had  no  occasion  to  find  fault 
with  Walter's  coldness,  had  he  known  the  truth .  of  it. 
All's  well  that  ends  well ;  and  if  that  woman  don't  find 
she  is  'heaping  up  wrath  against  the  day  of  wrath/  I'm 
mistaken." 

"  But  he  had  no  business  purposely  to  torment  me.  I 
should  have  had  more  confidence  than  that  in  him.  He 
don't  love  me  ;  there's  the  truth  of  it.  I'm  fierce  and  ex 
acting,  I  know,  but  never  to  him" 

u  I  tell  you  he  does  love  ;  but  you  must  yield  obedience 
to  his  dictates  :  you  must  learn  to  take  his  little  peculiari 
ties  as  a  matter  of  course." 

"  O,  yes !  look  calmly  on,  and  see  him  smiling  up  into 
the  face  of  every  woman  he  meets  —  give  him  my  exclu- 


224  HAGAB     THE     MARTYR. 

sive  devotedness,  while  he  returns  me  lukewarm  love,  or, 
perhaps,  no  love  at  all !  If  I  do,  I  hope  he'll  appreciate 
it  — that's  all!" 

"  There  —  there  you  go  again  —  flying  off  at  the  handle 
like  a  hatchet !  Now,  what  is  to  be  done  with  such  a  fire 
brand  ?  If  I  hadn't  sworn  to  defeat  that  woman  at  the 
cannon's  mouth,  hang  me  if  I  wouldn't  let  you  break  your 
heart  your  own  way ;  for  that  will  be  the  end  of  it  after  all, 
I  believe ! "  And  Lizzie  for  a  moment  ranted  up  and 
down  the  chamber,  quite  as  much  in  a  passion  as  it  was 
possible  for  her  to  be.  Her  lecture  on  mildness  and  sweet 
ness  of  disposition  was  so  nearly  "  preaching  without  prac 
tice,"  that  even  Hagar  took  up  the  cudgel  where  she  had 
laid  it  down,  and  whispered,  — 

"  Whose  in  a  temper  now,  Lizzie  ?  " 

"  You  are  enough  to  provoke  a  saint.  Any  how,  it  isn't 
so  bad  as  your  jealous  fracas  just  now  ! " 

Hagar's  face  darkened  again  with  the  sad  thoughts  which 
crossed  her  memory ;  and  before  she  had  time  to  reply, 
Lizzie  had  left  her  to  answer  some  call  from  the  crowd  be 
low.  Long  after  the  room  had  been  vacated,  she  sat  grow 
ing  more  and  more  sad  over  what  seemed  to  her  accumu 
lating  misery.  She  knew  there  was  a  crisis  coming,  and 
she  had  made  up  her  mind  that  certainty  was  better  than 
suspense,  though  that  certainty  shut  her  out  from  the  pale 
of  society.  The  party  at  which  she  had  intended  to  come 
out  boldly  with  her  life's  history  had  been  broken  up  by 
the  sudden  death  of  McVernon.  And  now  weeks  had 


H  A  G  A  K      THE      MARTYE.  225 

lengthened  into  months,  and  Anna  was  once  more  on  the 
flood  tide  of  fashionable  society.  Cautiously  she  ventured 
at  first,  as  if  feeling  her  way,  then  audaciously  flashing  out 
with  sails  full  set  to  catch  the  breeze  of  happiness,  regard 
less  if  beneath  her  bark  went  down  a  high,  true  heart, 
love-freighted,  into  the  waves  of  despair.  Most  ingenious 
were  the  devices  by  which  she  contrived  to  keep  Walter  by 
her  side.  The  explanations  which  she  knew  must  ensue  if 
confidence  was  once  restored,  would  not  only  thwart  her 
designs  upon  Walter's  hand,  but  render  her  an  object  of 
disgust  and  loathing. 

"  Once  mine,"  she  would  say  to  her  fears,  "  and  then  it 
will  be  my  fault  if  he  ever  listens  to  Hagar's  reproaches  or 
explanations ! "  and  then  she  would  dreamily  count  upon 
the  weeks  and  months  which  must  ensue  before  it  would  be 
prudent,  or  even  decent,  to  change  her  weeds  for  the  daz 
zling  garniture  of  bridehood. 

Hagar  was  taking  no  note  of  aught  but  her  own  dreary 
thoughts,  till  a  light  crossed  her  vision,  and  Walter  stood 
beside  her.  She  had  grown  wretchedly  pale,  and  her 
whole  manner  betokened  weariness  and  languor,  as  much 
of  body  as  of  spirit.  Walter  must  have  noticed  it,  for  he 
at  once  took  her  two  thin  hands  between  his  own. 

"  Now  don't  you  torment  yourself  needlessly,  Hagar  ?  " 
he  said.  She  looked  up,  dolefully  enough,  into  his  face. 

"  I'm  weary  of  it,  Walter  —  weary  of  it  all !  Weary  — 
O,  so  bitterly  weary  of  struggling  for  that  which  I  never 
can  gain ;  weary  of  this  strife,  and  toil,  and  misery ;  weary 


226  HAGAK     THE     MAKTTR. 

of  watching  the  crumbling  away  of  my  kingdom  into  the 
possession  of  another ;  and  I'm  not  sure  that  I'm  not  most 
weary  of  myself!"  She  withdrew  her  hands  from  his 
clasp,  and  pressed  them  upon  her  burning  forehead.  The 
look  of  fatigue  and  helplessness  by  which  her  words  were 
followed  touched  a  kindly  chord  in  the  bosom  of  the  man 
before  her. 

"  What  do  you  want,  Hagar  ?  "  he  urged,  again  possessing 
himself  of  her  truant  hand. 

"  Nothing  now,  Walter !  Whatever  I  may  have  wanted 
is  nothing  to  me  now !  I  am  weary  of  it  ah1." 

"  Weary  of  me  ?  "  he  questioned. 

"  I  believe  I  am  weary  of  life,  Walter !  I'm  afraid  I 
am !  I  am  afraid  it  is  this  sin  I'm  punished  for  —  or  if 
I'm  not  weary  of  that,  I  am  of  being  repulsed  and  pur 
posely  annoyed  and  insulted.  It  is  nothing  new  to  me  to 
feel  that  we  must  part.  If  this  did  not  part  us,"  —  and  she 
glanced  at  his  wounded  arm,  —  "something  else  would!  It 
is  better  as  it  is  —  better  at  least  for  her,  and  I  wish  her 
joy  of  her  success." 

"  Which  her  do  you  mean,  Hagar  ?  " 

"  Why,  Walter  —  I  loved  you  before  she  knew  of  your 
existence.  It  seems  to  me  that  I  have  loved  you  more 
years  than  she  has  days ;  at  all  events,  I  have  felt  what  it 
would  be  to  lose  you  before  her  fatal  beauty  tempted  you 
to  win  it.  O  Walter,  you  try  me  too  much  —  I  am  weary 
of  the  struggle  —  it  is  beyond  my  power  of  endurance." 
Her  face  was  again  becoming  indifferent  and  abstracted  in 
its  expression. 


HAGAB     THE      MARTYR.  227 

"  Hagar,  you  seem  determined  to  misunderstand  me ; 
you  are  foolishly,  needlessly  jealous  of  Anna  McVernon. 
If  it  was  not  she,  it  would  be  some  one  else." 

"  No,  no,  no  f  Walter." 

"  It  would,  Hagar !  You  love  me  too  much ;  it  is  not 
often  one  has  to  prefer  a  charge  of  this  kind,  but,  Hagar,  it 
is  the  truth,  and  nothing  but  the  truth.  You  are  passion 
ately  jealous,  and  ever  have  been  since  your  impulsive 
child's  heart  folded  itself  over  the  careless  boy  who  came 
to  your  rescue  in  years  agone  !  Do  you  remember  it  ?  " 

"  O,  do  I  not ! "  With  her  quick  impulse,  she  would 
have  flung  herself  into  his  arms ;  but  he  held  her  firmly, 
steadily  away  from  him. 

"  No  love  scenes  now,  Hagar  !  I  want  to  talk  with  you 
reasonably.  Suppose  now  we  were  to  marry  ;  what  chance 
of  domestic  happiness  should  we  have  while  this  restless, 
jealous  state  of  dissatisfaction  lasted  ?  Why,  just  none  at 
all,  Hagar ;  and  I  should  be  crazy  to  risk  it.  You  might 
have  killed  me,  Hagar,  just  now,  instead  of  wounding  my 
arm." 

"  0  Walter ! "  Hagar  shuddered,  and  would  have 
clasped  him  again,  but  that  she  feared  a  second  repulse. 

"  Well,  lay  it  there,"  he  said,  drawing  her  head  upon  his 
shoulder.  "But,  Hagar,  though  I  neither  spoke  of  nor 
looked  my  dissatisfaction,  you  hurt  my  heart  more  than 
you  did  my  arm.  The  pain  is  there  yet,  telling  me  that 
though  I  love  you,  I  love  my  own  peace  of  mind  and  my 
future  comfort  better.  And  yet  we  might  be  so  happy  if 


HAGAB     THE     M A R T T K . 

you  could  —  if  I  was  sure  you  could  —  restrain  that  fear 
ful  temper.  Try,  Hagar,  for  my  sake,  for  both  our  sakes 
—  won't  you  ?  " 

"  O,  I  think  nothing  would  be  too  hard  for  me  to  do  if 
you  would  speak  to  me  as  you  do  now.  Yes,  if  you  would 
only  keep  away  from"  that  woman " 

"I  cannot,  Hagar  —  at  least  not  now.  After  what  has 
just  happened,  people  would  say  you  forced  me  to  give 
her  up." 

"  Why,  "Walter !  do  you  think  what  people  said  would 
have  any  influence  over  me  where  your  happiness  was  con 
cerned  ?  " 

"  But  you  are  a  woman,  Hagar,  and  judge  these  matters 
with  a  woman's  judgment.  A  man's  heart  is  naturally  too 
proud  to  indulge  the  supposition  of  its  being  ruled.  It  is 
a  weakness,  I  suppose  —  a  greater  one  than  woman's  rash 
ness,  I  suppose ;  but  so  it  is.  Now,  you  say  you  will  over 
come  this  impetuosity  for  my  sake.  I  am  going  to  put 
you  to  the  proof." 

"  Speak  kindly  to  me  as  you  do  now  —  only  let  me  feel 
that  I  have  still  a  corner  in  your  heart  —  and  I  will  over 
come  any  evil  you  object  to  in  my  nature.  What  proof  ?  " 

"  Anna  wants  to  pass  the  holidays  with  you.  I  wish,  to 
silence  blabbing  tongues,  you  would  invite  her." 

Hagar  bounded  from  his  arms,  and  stood  erect  and  firm 
before  him. 

"What!"  she  exclaimed. 

"  Invite  Anna  to  pass  the  holidays  with  you." 


HAGAR     THE     MARTYR.  229 

"  O  Walter,  how  cruel  you  are !  —  how  cool,  and  calm, 
and  deadly  cruel  you  are!  So  handsome  and  so  cruel! 
Who  would  believe  that  beneath  that  earnest,  Jionest  face 
such  a  mine  of  cruelty  lay !  Ask  Anna  ?  yes,  I  will  ask 
her ;  I  will  have  her  before  me,  day  after  day,  knowing 
that  I  am  an  obstacle  in  her  way,  which  she  has  deter 
mined  to  remove,  and  which  she  WILL  remove ;  I  will  see 
her  day  by  day  engrossing,  absorbing,  bewildering  away 
from  me  the  life  of  love,  the  holy  life  that  God  gave  me 
before  fate  singled  me  from  all  the  world  to  kill  —  to  kill! 
O,  never  fear  me ;  I  will  ask  her,  as  you  desire." 

"You  will?" 

'"I  will!" 

"When?" 

"  To-night." 

"  That's  well.  Now  smooth  your  hair,  and  try  for  Once 
to  believe  that  I  am  acting  for  your  future  good,  and " 

"  My  future  good  !     Well,  go  on." 

"  Come  down  with  me  into  the  hall ;  act  as  if  nothing 
unusual  had  happened." 

Hagar  obeyed  mechanically ;  bathed  her  eyes,  smoothed 
her  hair,  and  would  have  taken  his  arm ;  but  he  held  her 
at  arms'  length,  that  he  might  take  a  survey  of  her  features. 

"  You  are  looking  wretchedly  ill  to-night,  Hagar,  truly," 
he  murmured,  with  more  than  usual  fondness. 

But  the  memory  of  recent  disclosures  —  of  the  visit  to 

Justice  A 's,  which  was  still  unexplained,  and  of  the 

numberless  trials  to  which  she  had  unconsciously  subjected 
20 


HAGAE     THE     MARTYK. 

him,  stepped  between  him  and  the  real  affection  which, 
after  all,  still  lived  for  her  in  his  heart.  And  Hagar  went 
down  with  Walter  to  the  crowd  below.  Laughing  back 
defiance  to  their  questioning  eyes,  she  sent  out  flash  after 
flash  of  fitful  mirth,  belying  the  previous  gloom,  and  gath 
ering  about  her  those  who  revelled  in  her  power  to  charm, 
and  who  pronounced  her  the  quaintest  morsel  of  oddity 
and  eccentricity  extant.  Walter  scarcely  left*  her  side,  and 
for  once  seemed  proud  of  his  position  as  the  lover  of  one 
so  brilliant.  It  WAS  something  of  a  triumph  to  be  loved 
exclusively  by  such  a  spirit,  and  to  have  the  world  aware 
of  such  love.  And  she,  for  the  time  at  least,  was  wildly 
happy. 

"  I  believe  Walter  belongs  to  me  for  this  set" 

The  low  voice  broke  in  upon  some  very  sweet  and 
soothing  words;  and,  looking  up  from  the  window  where 
they  sat,  the  form  of  Anna  McVernon  stood  before  them. 
Hagar's  eyes  flashed  fire,  and  her  lips  sprang  apart,  freight 
ed  with  some  insolent  words ;  but  the  warning  pressure  of 
Walter's  hand  arrested  their  utterance. 

"  You  are  not  going,  Walter  —  surely  you  are  not  going," 
she  whispered  between  her  closed  teeth. 

"  O,  never  mind,  never  mind,"  laughed  Anna.  "  Fortu 
nately  you  are  not  the  only  man  present.  I  can  find  a  sub 
stitute,  I  fancy,  unless  all  the  men  are  prisoners,  as  you 
seem  to  be." 

"  O,  no ;  I  bar  that.  I  don't  relinquish  you  so  easily." 
And  Walter  sprang  up,  with  his  light,  gay  laugh,  to  join 
her. 


HAGAR     THE     MARTYR.  231 

"  Go !  and,  so  help  me  Heaven,  I'll  never  speak  to  you 
again !  "  hissed  Hagar,  livid  with  anger. 

"  No,  I  won't  have  it.  I  won't  be  the  cause  of  trouble 
to  you,  Walter,"  said  Anna,  moving  away. 

"  Trouble  !  Not  the  least.  If  people  will  be  ridiculous, 
I  don't  choose  to  take  the  responsibility  of  it ;  "  and,  shak 
ing  Hagar  off,  he  was  soon  engrossed  —  heart,  soul  and 
sense  —  by  his  fascinating  partner. 

"  What  a  pity  Hagar  will  be  so  jealous ! "  said  Anna,  as 
they  moved  away.  "  It  makes  you  look  stupid  as  well  as 
herself." 

Anna  had  touched  his  weak  point ;  and,  by  the  sudden 
flush  which  lit  his  face,  she  knew  that  she  had  sprung  a 
mine  between  the  two  over  which  he  would  not  care  to 
pass,  for  that  evening  at  least. 


CHAPTER    XXII. 

THE  STRAWBERBY  VENDEE. 

"  STRAWBERRIES  !  strawberries  !  straw  berries!"  The 
unusual  cry  proceeded  from  the  lips  of  a  pretty,  brown- 
eyed  little  girl,  whose  curly  head  poised  itself  first  on  one 
side,  then  on  the  other,  graceful  as  a  bird's,  while  the  brown 
eyes  roved  up  and  down  the  street,  to  arrest  customers  for 
her  luscious  merchandise. 

"  Strawberries  !  strawberries .'  "  It  was  a  sweet,  timid 
voice,  which  rolled  over  her  lips  with  protracted  melody, 
causing  many  a  passer-by  to  turn  for  a  second  look  at  the 
sweet  face,  warm  from  unusual  exercise,  which  shone  out 
through  the  drifting  curls  that  shadowed  it. 

"  Strawberries  !  strawberries  !  v 

"  Here,  girl  —  thing  —  you  strawberry  seller  !  " 

The  round,  sunny  face  of  Ida  peered  from  the  window, 
distorted  by  most  extraordinary  grimaces,  by  which  she 
was  endeavoring  to  gain  the  attention  of  the  fruit  vender. 

"  Strawberries  !  strawberries  !  " 

u  Here,  you  girl !  Why,  you  ridiculous  little  mouse  you, 
are  you  deaf  or  blind  ?  "  This  last  remark  followed  the 
capture  of  the  girl,  which  had  been  made  by  Ida's  hopping 
out  of  the  low  window,  and  as  rapidly  hopping  back  again, 

(232) 


HAGAK     THE     MABTYR.  233 

upon  remembering  that  her  dress  consisted  only  of  a  petti 
coat  and  a  loose  gown.  The  galvanic  shock  which  had 
startled  Ida  into  life  had  made  her  the  busiest,  brightest 
little  creature  imaginable.  The  great  disappointment  con 
sequent  upon  the  dereliction  of  her  poet  had  sent  Miss 
Viola  Piuchin  to  a  camp  meeting  for  consolation,  where  she 
contracted  religion  and  an  inflammatory  rheumatism,  which, 
between  the  two,  gave  her  plenty  to  occupy  her  mind, 
without  allowing  it  to  rest  upon  her  aggrievances.  Some 
times,  to  be  sure,  she  would  sit  gazing  at  Ida  with  a  sort  of 
ludicrous  gravity.  Ludicrous  it  must  have  been ;  for  Ida 
had  a  persistent  horror  of  turning  the.  peculiarities  of  her 
kind  friend  into  ridicule ;  yet,  under  such  inspection,  and 
knowing  its  cause,  her  little  heart  would  run  over  with  its 
mirth,  and  finally  explode  in  a  gush  of  laughter.  And 
very  red  and  angry  Viola  would  become  at  such  times,  and 
quite  forgetful  of  her  religion  and  its  teachings.  However, 
these  were  rare  occasions ;  and,  on  the  whole,  the  two  got 
along  much  more  nicely  together  than  persons  are  apt  to 
where  one  has  eclipsed  the  other  in  the  matter  of  affection. 

"  What  a  noise  you  are  making  down  there,  Ida  !  "  called 
out  Viola  from  the  chamber ;  "  you  make  me  quite  nervous." 
And  a  bundle  of  something  that  looked  like  burdock  leaves 
and  flannel  came  slowly  creeping  down  the  stairs. 

Ida  was  on  her  knees  over  the  strawberry  basket,  enjoy 
ing  to  her  heart's  content  the  luscious  fragrance  which 
drifted  up  from  the  fruit. 

"  They  are  too  good  to  eat  —  they  are,  indeed ! "  and  her 
20* 


234  HAGAE     THE     MARTYR. 

plump  little  fingers  rested  one  after  another  upon  the 
tempting  fruit.  A  shadow  falling  upon  the  basket  started 
her  to  her  feet,  "Why!  Now  just  go  up  stairs  this  min 
ute  !  I  never  saw  any  thing  like  such  a  careless  woman ; 
and  the  doctor  expected  every  minute !  Now  go,  or  I'll 
leave  a  chink  open  in  the  window,  and  let  a  draught  in  on 
you,  now  see  if  I  don't.  After  all  my  care ! " 

"  But  what  are  you  doing  ?  and  why  don't  you  dress 
yourself?  " 

"  I'm.  going  to  make  some  tarts  for  dinner ;  and  I  don't 
dress  myself  because  I'm  more  comfortable  as  I  am.  Now 
do  go  up  stairs,  that's  an  old  dear,  and  I'll  make  you  a 
flipper,  and  bring  you  up  a  cup  of  coffee  that  you  can  see 
your  face  in  for  clearness." 

Whether  it  was  the  promise  of  the  coffee  or  the  threat 
of  the  draught  that  had  the  most  effect  I'm  not  prepared  to 
say ;  but  while  the  little  merchant  sat  astonished  over  her 
basket,  Ida  was  toiling  up  stairs  with  the  almost  helpless 
Viola  in  her  arms. 

"Now  don't  let  me  see  you  out  of  bed  again  for  a 
month,"  said  the  puttering  little  nurse,  putting  some  warm 
clothes  upon  the  invalid's  feet,  and  tucking  the  bed  up  like 
a  matronly  body  as  she  was.  It  was  worth  all  the  medi 
cine  in  the  world  —  or  would  have  been  to  a  bachelor  —  to 
have  that  soft,  sunny  face  glinting  like  a  sunbeam  about 
the,  room.  Nobody's  hands  were  so  soft  and  cool  to  the 
invalid's  head ;  and  nobody  could  arrange  the  pillows  and 
assist  her  generally  so  tenderly  and  with  such  unwearied 


HAGAB     THE     MARTYR.  235 

care  as  did  this  sweet  foundling,  who  had  indeed  grown  to 
be  a  foundling  to  both  the  old  maid  Pinchins.  By  the 
time  she  was  down  stairs  again,  another  person  had  joined 
the  strawberry  girl,  who,  with  an  artist's  eye  for  beauty, 
and  a  poet's  heart  for  incident,  was  endeavoring  to  draw 
her  out  and  learn  something  of  her  history. 

"  Now  do  let  the  little  toad  alone !  "  exclaimed  Ida,  with 
just  the  ghost  of  a  pet  in  her  voice.  "  Put  her  down,  do. 
She's  half  crying  now  with  your  teasing." 

"It's  not  him  at  all,"  replied  the  little  girl.  "I  was 
thinking  of  my  mamma.  I  must  make  haste  home,  for  she 
is  sick,  and  so  white;  so  please  buy  my  berries,  and  let 
me  go." 

"  What's  your  mother's  name  ?  "  asked  Ida. 

"  I  don't  know." 

"  You  don't  know !  Why,  what  a  Hottentot  she  must  be 
to  bring  you  up  in  such  ignorance  ! " 

"  No,  she  isn't  a  Hottentot ;  she's  a  washerwoman,  and 
I'm  a  secret," 

«  A  what  ?  " 

"  A  secret,  so  she  says.    I  don't  belong  to  any  body  now 
but  one  of  these  days,  if  I'm  good,  I'm  to  be  a  great  lady 
and  have  plenty  of  money  to  buy  candy  with,  and  ride  in  a 
big  carriage  with  fourteen  horses,  and  see  all  the  circusts 
that  come  along." 

"  What's  a  circust,  for  goodness'  sake  ?  " 

"  Why,  didn't  you  never  see  one  ?  " 

Ida  shook  her  head  in  astonishment ;  but  the  little  mer- 


236  HAGAB     THE     MARTYR. 

chant  had  mounted  her  hobby,  and  her  timidity  had  taken 
French  leave. 

"  Why,  you  never  see  a  circust,  nor  a  helephant,  nor  a 
rinocerious,  nor  an  ingirubber  man,  nor  a  cat  with  two  tails, 
nor  a  gianter,  nor  a " 

"  Why,  gracious  me,  the  child's  crazy !  " 

"  0,  I've  seen  all  of  them,  and  a  great  many  more  curi 
osities  ;  and  when  I  grow  up  I'm  going  to  larn  to  ride  in 
the  ring  with  shiny  dresses  on." 

"  Mercy  on  us,  to  hear  the  child  talk !  and  did  you  ever 
see  such  a  likeness  ?  There,  turn  up  your  face  so."  Ida 
took  the  brown  little  face  between  her  two  palms,  and  held 
it  up  to  her  lover. 

"  Well,  there  is  a  likeness,  certainly." 

"  Why,  Anna  McVernon's  real  self  couldn't  be  more  like 
her  than  this  child." 

The  poet  thought  for  a  moment,  and  then  questioned  the 
child  more  attentively.  Nothing  was  elicited,  however,  but 
that  she  was  a  secret ;  so,  clearing  her  basket  of  berries, 
they  sent  her  home,  promising  to  call  and  bring  some  nice 
thing  to  cheer  her  sick  mamma. 

I'm  sorry  to  say  it,  for  the  sake  of  romance,  but  this 
poet  lover  of  Ida's  had  a  narrow  escape  from  being  dis 
gustingly  rich.  As  it  was,  he  had  just  as  much  money  as 
he  could  well  get  rid  of,  and  was,  moreover,  pet  nephew 
and  heir  to  a  most  aristocratic  and  tonnish  elderly  lady, 
who,  overlooking  his  morals  and  his  pockets,  took  care  that 
neither  should  ebb  very  low.  It  took  him  a  long  time  to 


HAGAR     THE     MARTYR.  237 

decide  in  what  manner  best  to  break  the  news  of  his 
engagement  with  a  nameless,  portionless  girl  to  this  stic 
kler  for  family  distinction.  But  it  was  done  at  last ;  and 
this  morning  he  had  in  his  pocket  an  answering  letter, 
demanding  him,  on  pain  of  her  august  displeasure,  to 
return  at  once  to  safety  and  her  arms.  No  wonder  the 
poet's  brow  was  clouded.  To  give  up  Ida  was  not  to  be 
thought  of  for  a  moment ;  and  to  offend  his  aunt  smacked 
so  greatly  of  ingratitude  that  he  shrank  from  such  a  step. 

"  I  have  it ! "  he  thought  at  last.  "  I'll  get  Ida  up  for 
the  occasion,  and  take  her  with  me."  Nobody  could  resist 
Ida  that  had  half  a  heart ;  and  so  she  should  intercede  for 
him  in  person.  Her  own  winning  ways  would  be  excuse 
enough  for  his  affection,  and  her  beautiful  face  prove  more 
eloquent  than  family  rank  and  title,  which,  after  all,  were 
only  nonentities  in  the  cup  of  happiness.  Having  settled 
it  to  his  satisfaction,  his  spirits  rose  proportionably  high. 
In  his  mind's  eye  he  already  saw  his  sweet  wife  domesti 
cated  in  the  old  family  mansion,  like  a  gentle  violet  in  the 
shadow  of  some  great  tree.  Already  the  tones  of  her 
voice  were  mingling  with  the  rippling  fountains  that  lent 
their  freshness  to  the  conservatory,  while  little  footprints  in 
the  garden  mould  showed  what  fairy  spirit  reigned  queeii 
of  the  flowers.  His  dream  was  broken  by  the  voice  of  Ida 
calling  to  him  from  the  kitchen. 

"  Never  mind  the  door,"  she  said ;  "  let  it  stand  open ;  it 
will  cool  the  house.  Mind  that  nipper  while  I  pick  over 
the  berries,"  said  she,  laughingly  handing  him  a  knife  to 


HAGAR     THE      MARTYR. 

turn  it  The  poet  was  in  too  meny  a  humor  not  to  indulge 
her  fancy. 

"  Here ;  put  my  apron  before  you,  to  save  your  clothes. 
0,  how  awkward  you  men  are !  let  me  try  it." 

With  mocking  gravity  he  suffered  her  to  tie  her  apron 
about  him ;  and,  to  complete  the  picture,  he  said,  he  had 
jocosely  fitted  Miss  Pinchin's  turban  upon  his  head,  and 
saddled  his  nose  with  her  spectacles. 

"  Now  mind  the  nipper.  I'm  sure  I  smell  it  burning. 
Come  in ! "  The  last  part  of  her  speech  was  addressed  to 
some  outsider  who  was  knocking  at  the  door. 

"  Don't  let  any  body  in ! "  exclaimed  the  (for  the  nonce) 
cook,  looking  very  red  with  his  fiery  exercise. 

"  O,  it's  nobody  you  care  for ;  the  wood  man,  I  guess. 
Aunt  Margaretta  said  she  would  send  for  him.  Do  come 
in !  That  flipper  is  certainly  burning.  Why,  for  mercy's 
sake  do  come  in ! " 

Out  of  all  patience,  Ida  jumped  up  and  flung  open  the 
door  to  confront,  not  the  wood  man,  but  an  elegant,  stately- 
looking  woman,  whose  manner  at  that  moment  suggested 
the  idea  of  her  doing  the  freezing  for  all  the  country  round. 
Without  noticing  Ida  in  the  least,  this  grand  apparition 
sailed  in,  and  sank  leisurely  down  into  a  chair,  and  as 
leisurely  surveyed  the  scene  through  her  jewelled  eye 
glass. 

"  My  dear  aunt !  —  Curse  the  apron !  —  My -dear  aunt ! " 

"  I  beg  your  pardon." 

The  air  with  which  this  simple  sentence  was  pronounced 


HAGAE     THE     MABTYB.  239 

forbade  all  further  familiarity.  As  for  Ida,  she  had  disap 
peared  much  in  the  manner  of  Gabriel  Ravel,  and  quite  as 
mysteriously. 

"  The  cook,  I  presume,"  surmised  the  frosty  lady,  indi 
cating  with  her  fan  the  place  where  Ida  had  been  seated. 

"  Dear,  bless  me  !  no ;  the  most  ridiculous  affair ! " 

"  That  turban  is  not  the  most  becoming  headdress  for  a 
young  man." 

The  turban  went  into  the  stove  in  haste. 

"  And  now  I  suppose  you  are  ready  to  go  home  with  me. 
Such  torn-foolery  is  not  what  I  might  expect  from  you." 

"But,  aunt, " 

"  No  words  !  If  that  was  '  the  gentle,  lovable  Ida  —  the 
soft,  delicious  Ida,'  of  your  letter,  the  sooner  you  are  away 
from  her  influence  the  better." 

"But,  aunt, " 

"  No  words,  I  say !  I  have  been  used  to  obedience.  If 
you  choose  to  remain  here  and  help  about  the  kitchen,  well 
and  good.  You  can't  expect  me  to  recognize  you." 

"  If  you  would  only  see  her " 

"  I  think  I  have  seen  her.  AN  short  gown  and  petticoat 
may  grace  a  kitchen,  but  it  would  be  rather  a  novelty  in 
our  parlor,  and  among  our  set" 

The  stately  lady  rose  to  go. 

"But,  aunt, " 

"•You  will  find  me  at  the  Revere.  There  is  no  occasion 
for  further  explanation.  You  desired  me  to  see  your 
intended ;  I  took  you  at  your  word.  I  have  seen  her,  and 


240  HAGAK     THE     MARTTR. 

must  express  my  unbounded  surprise  at  your  choice.  How 
ever,  I  trust  it  is  only  a  passing  infatuation,  which  a  little 
wholesome  advice  will  cure.  As  I  said  before,  you  will 
find  me  at  the  Revere,  where  I  shall  expect  you  immedi 
ately." 

The  stately  lady  sailed  out  in  the  same  gorgeous  manner 
that  marked  her  entrance.  As  the  door  closed  upon  her, 
Ida  tumbled  sobbing  from  the  closet  into  her  lover's  arms. 

Of  what  came  of  the  escalade  we  shall  hear  all  in  good 
time ;  for  the  present  we  can  only  say  of  the  poet  that  if 
he  had  not  loved  wisely,  he  had  loved  well ;  and  that  is 
more  than  his  class  always  do. 


CHAPTER    XIII. 
THE  JEALOUS  WIFE.  —  THE  UNWELCOME  SURPRISE. 

WHILE  storms  arid  -calms  had  alternated,  there  had  been 
a  "  terrible  tempest  in  a  teapot "  at  poor,  jealous  little  Mrs. 
Western's.  It  seems  that,  proposing  to  pass  a  few  days 
with  her  relatives  in  the  country,  she  had  left  home  with 
her  three  little  ones,  her  husband  seeing  her  safe  off,  and 
out  of  sight,  in  the  cars.  On  arriving  at  a  depot  about 
half  way  to  the  place  of  her  destination,  she  had  met  the 
party  on  a  visit  to  her  in  the  city.  Full  of  glee  at  the  hap 
py  surprise  she  thought  to  give  her  husband,  she  persuaded 
the  party  to  return  with  her,  instead  of  continuing  on,  as  at 
first  intended.  Mr.  Western  happened  to  be  out  on  her 
return,  and  what  was  worse,  not  being  aware  of  the  treat 
in  store  for  him  at  home,  he  happened  to  remain  out  till  the 
sun  was  up  a  foot  or  two  the  next  morning.  Mrs.  Western 
was  in  despair.  Every  conceivable  resort  of  the  rather 
flighty  husband  was  canvassed  in  vain.  Every  club  room, 
every  billiard  saloon,  every  restaurant  was  scoured  by 
scouts  of  the  enemy,  in  shape  of  paid  emissaries  of  Mrs. 
Western ;  but  no  truant  husband  could  be  found.  Her 
company,  feeling  themselves  de  trop  under  the  circum 
stances,  took  French  leave  during  her  absence  on  an  ex- 
21  (2*1) 


242  UACAR     THE     MARTYR. 

ploring  expedition.  There  was  no  sleep  for  Mrs.  Western 
that  night.  "Wardrobes  and  closets  were  disgorged  of  their 
finery,  and  trunks  packed  with  their  contents.  Every 
movement  betokened  a  desperate  determination  on  the 
part  of  Mrs.  Western  not  to  give  it  up  so.  About  break 
fast  time  the  unconscious  husband  let  himself  in  with  a 
night  key,  and  was  brought  up  all  standing  by  the  sight 
which  met  his  astonished  eyes. 

"  So  ! "  exclaimed  the  aggrieved  wife.  "  So !  I've  really 
caught  you,  at  last.  I  hope  you  have  had  a  pleasant  night 
of  it!" 

"Why,  Lily " 

"  Don't  Lily  me,  Mr.  Western.  You  have  Lilied  me 
once  too  often,  Mr.  Western.  I've  done  with  you  forever. 
You  can't  have  me  and  a  dozen  other  women  besides,  I  can 
tell  you."  And  down  went  the  lid  of  the  trunk  with  a  crash 
that  awoke  the  baby,  and  sent  him  off  into  a  luscious  cry. 

"  You'll  let  me  explain,  I  suppose  ?  "  said  Mr.  Western, 
assuming  to  be  particularly  indignant  at  the  charges  which 
were  hurled  thick  and  heavy  at  his  head. 

"  There  can  be  no  explanation,  Mr.  Western.  Do  you 
suppose  if  I  had  been  thought  at  home  you  would  have 
been  absent  all  night  ?  The  least  you  say  for  yourself,  the 
better  it  will  be  for  you." 

Mr.  Western  looked  as  if  he  thought  she  was  right. 
Just  then  his  partner  was  seen  approaching  the  house. 
With  an  uncommon  sprightly  step  he  hastened  to  admit 
him. 


HAGAR'THE     MARTYR.  243 

"  I  was  at  your  Louse  last  night  looking  over  the  books," 
he  whispered,  in  an  under  tone.  "  You  understand.  Trou 
ble  in  the  camp  up  stairs."  And  with  a  comical  face,  he 
preceded  his  partner  to  the  parlor. 

Mrs.  Western  was  on  hand  as  soon  as  either  of  them. 
He  should  have  no  mercy  shown  him.  He  should  have  no 
chance  to  hatch  up  an  excuse  behind  her  back.  No,  indeed. 
She  knew  Western  too  well  for  that.  She  had  caught  him 
out  and  out,  and  he  should  have  the  benefit  of  it,  or  she 
was  not  the  Mrs.  Western  she  believed  herself. 

"Ah,  madam,"  began  her  husband's  partner,  as  she  en 
tered,  "  you  are  looking  blooming  this  morning  —  better 
than  you  would  have  done  had  you  been  where  Western 
and  I  were  last  night.  Eh,  Western  ?  " 

"  There ;  stop,  now,  stop  ! "  exclaimed  Western,  theatri 
cally  waving  his  hand.  "  She  has  condemned  me  without 
a  hearing.  I  just  want  her  to  find  out  of  her  own  ac 
cord." 

What  a  persecuted  victim  Western  did  look  !  But  Mrs. 
Western  had  seized  his  partner's  hands,  and/was  imploring 
him  to  proceed. 

"  Why,  our  books  got  into  a  devil  of  a  snarl,  and  we  took 
last  night  to  set  them  right  again.  Eh,  Western  ?  " 

"O,  my  poor  Western!  And  me  abusing  you  like  a 
pickpocket,  and  you  working  all  night  long." 

"  You  haven't  half  my  constitution,  Western.  You  show 
the  effects  of  your  night's  labor.  Look  at  me.  I'm  a*  fresh 
as  lump  butter." 


244  HAG  All    THE     MARTY  B. 

Western  did  look  at  him,  but,  as  it  nearly  upset  his  grav 
ity,  he  turned  away  again. 

"  Tompson's  people  are  up  this  morning  about  that  bank 
rupt  stock.  So,  get  your  breakfast,  make  your  toilet,  and 
come  down  to  the  store." 

"  0,  you  abominable  rogue,  for  getting  caught !"  exclaimed 
his  fun-loving  partner,  as  he  attended  him  to  the  door. 

If  Western  had  been  in  very  bad  company,  I  would  not 
have  let  him  off  so  easily ;  but  his  misdemearior  in  this  in 
stance  consisted  in  his  having  met  a  clique  of  friends,  with 
whom  he  passed  the  night.  But  Mrs.  Western  was  one  of 
those  unfortunate  women  who  think  their  husband*  should 
have  no  amusement  in  which  they  do  not  share.  If  she 
knew  him  to  go  to  a  theatre,  or  a  concert,  even,  unattended 
by  her,  it  was  the  occasion  of  at  least  a  day's  lecturing  and 
tears.  The  consequence  of  this  injudicious  treatment  occa 
sioned  numerous  deceptions  and  misrepresentations  on  his 
part,  which,  coming  to  light  sooner  or  later,  bade  fair  to  de 
stroy  the  last  grain  of  confidence  between  them.  If  women 
would  only  learn  the  folly  of  this  ridiculous  restriction,  the 
happiness  of  married  life  would  soon  cease  to  be  a  jest.  To 
my  mind,  no  man  deserves  the  name  who  would  allow  him 
self  to  be  tied  to  his  wife's  apron  strings.  The  more  a  wo 
man  exacts,  the  less  obedience  is  rendered  to  her  wishes. 
The  very  nature  of  man  prompts  him  to  use  the  freedom 
of  his  sex.  He  cannot  find  that  calm  and  rest  perpetually 
in  his  wife's  society  which  she  does  in  his.  A  woman's 
passion  goes  with  her  love.  Let  a  man  be  sure  of  that,  and 


HA  GAR      THE     MARTYR.  245 

he  may  be  sure  of  .her  fidelity ;  hut  with  a  man,  variety  is 
the  charm^which  leads  him  into  temptation.  •  For  my  part, 
I  contend  that  a  man's  infidelity  has  no  more  to  do  with  his 
love  for  his  wife  than  it  has  with  affection  for  its  ohject. 
I  have  heard  women  say,  tune  and  time  again,  "  If  I  could 
only  catch  my  husband,  it  would  be  the  happiest  day  of  my 
life."  Now,  how  absurd  is  such  a  wish  !  "  What  the  eyes 
do  not  see  the  heart  does  not  grieve  at."  The  very  pecca 
dilloes  which,  if  they  were  known,  would  possibly  destroy 
forever  domestic  happiness,  in  nine  cases  out  of  ten  render 
the  perpetrator  more  gentle,  more  tender,  and  more  thought 
ful  for  the  comforts  of  the  wife  which  conscience  tells  him 
he  has  wronged.  It  is  only  your  termagant,  shrewish  wives 
who  drive  their  husbands  to  other  women  for  the  associa 
tions  which  they  miss  at  home,  who  need  fear  the  estrange 
ment  of  their  liege  lords,  even  if  they  do  occasionally  stray 
from  the  fold.  Now,  had  Mrs.  "Western  learned  to  manage 
her  husband,  instead  of  forcing  him,  she  would  never  have 
had  occasion  to  mourn  over  his  conjugal  delinquencies.  And 
there  are  more  Mrs.  "Westerns  in  the  world  than  there  are 
sensible  wives,  by  a  long  odds.  Forbidden  fruit  is  always 
tempting  to  masculinity ;  but  let  a  husband  have  his  full 
swing,  unmolested  and  unwatched,  and  the  odds  are  ten  to 
one  that  he  finds  his  own  home  the  most  agreeable  shelter 
after  all.  That's  my  experience.  Those  who  don't  relish 
its  freedom  are  not  obliged  to  subscribe  to  it ;  but  take  my 
word  for  it,  there  is  nothing  made  by  jealous,  peevish  sur- 
21* 


HA6AR     THE     MARTYR. 

veillance,  unless  it  is  the  assurance  of  perpetual  deceit  and 
insincerity.  • 

Need  I  say  that  Mrs.  Western  is  a  living  reality,  having 
a  "  local  habitation  and  a  name"  within  the  limits  of  circum 
spect  old  Boston  ?  However,  no  one  need  fit  the  saddle  to 
their  own  backs,  unless  particularly  anxious  so  to  do. 

Among  the  apers  of  fashionable  life,  Mrs.  Western  was  a 
showy,  fussy,  under-bred  woman,  whom  the  chances  of  for 
tune,  and  the  benefit  of  a  pretty  face,  had  given  a  husband 
of  shrewdness  enough  to  pass  for  rich.  Of  course,  this  was 
enough  to  gain  a  passport  to  the  margin  of  society,  though, 
to  the  utter  discomfiture  of  the  madam,  it  failed  to  secure 
for  her  the  countenance  of  those  who  deemed  education  and 
intellect  matters  of  something  more  than  minor  importance. 
In  vain  the  St.  Martins,  and  the  Greys,  and  the  Welmans 
smiled  upon  her  ostentatious  display ;  while  the  lip  of  the 
haughty,  aristocratic  Mrs.  Miles  Scammon  curled  in  disdain. 
Her  diamonds  were  immaculate,  her  dress  unquestionable, 
her  equipage  the  envy  of  the  lower  million ;  but  there  was 
still  an  aching  void  which  nothing  but  the  recognition  of 
Mrs.  Miles  Scammon  could  fill.  She  was  a  constant  visitor 
at  the  various  watering-places,  patronizing  alternately  the 
Springs,  Cape  May,  Newport,  and  sometimes  condescended 
to  astonish  the  parvenus  at  Long  Island  —  not  "  old  Long 
Island's  sea-girt  shore,"  but  our  tiny  speck  of  an  island  in 
Boston  Harbor.  At  these  places  she  would  flourish  large 
ly —  talk  of  her  dear  friend  Mrs.  Miles  Scammon  —  display 


HAGAR     THE     MARTYR.  247 

her  jewelry,  as  being  selected  for  her  by  Mrs.  Miles  Scam- 
mon  in  Paris  —  flaunt  her  costly  brocades,  as  being  the 
exact  pattern  of  those  worn  by  Mrs.  Miles  Scammon ; 
but,  as  Moore  so  beautifully  wrote  of  the  broken  vase, 
in  the  midst  of  all  her  glaring  finery  —  the  prestige  of 
old  time  —  ignorance  and  vulgarity  would  cling  round  her 
still.  Once,  to  the  horror  of  Madam  Western,  and  the 
amusement  of  her  auditors,  Mrs.  Miles  Scammon  absolute 
ly  did  alight  at  the  door  of  the  Ocean  House,  just  as  her 
admirer  was  descanting  upon  some  lovable  trait  in  her  char 
acter.  Of  course  Madam  "Western  was  seen  no  more  at 
Newport  that  season.  Mrs.  Miles  Scammon,  however,  was 
well  aware  of  her  constant  endeavors  to  reach  the  altitude 
of  her  circle,  and  as  sedulously  shook  her  off,  and  kept  be 
yond  her  reach.  Her  husband,  who  was  really,  in  all  other 
matters,  a  sensible  man,  inherited  her  desire  for  plebeian 
display,  and  consequently  furnished  not  only  the  means  by 
which  his  wife  became  the  laughing  stock  of  the  city, 
but  allowed  the  most  lavish  expenditure  upon  household 
adornment.  A  pretty  cottage  in  the  suburbs  of  the  city 
not  being  considered  genteel  enough,  it  was  exchanged 
for  a  palatial  mansion  in  a  most  fashionable  street.  But 
Mrs.  Miles  Scammon  frowned  alike  upon  palace  and  cot 
tage  ;  and,  to  say  the  truth,  poor  little  madam  was  quite 
losing  heart  at  her  ill  success  in  that  particular. 

Summer  had  passed,  with  its  out-of-town  flitting,  and 
winter  had  come,  with  its  long  evenings.  There  were  cos 
tume  parties,  and  soirees,  and  concerts  without  number; 


248  H  A  G  A  R      THE     MARTYK. 

and  as  Madam  Western  bad  climbed  tolerably  high  in  the 
social  scale,  she  was  permitted  sometimes  to  gaze  upon  her 
brilliant  luminary. 

"  I  wonder  that  you  tolerate  that  ignorant,  vulgar  "West 
ern  ! "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Miles  Scammon,  one  evening,  to  the 
lady  at  whose  residence  they  were  jointly  assembled. 

"  O,  she's  a  harmless  little  thing  enough !  Besides,  I 
don't  know  what  we  should  do  for  a  scape  goat  if  we  were  to 
lose  her.  Why,  she  is  invaluable.  The  way  in  which  she 
breaks  the  neck  of  the  king's  English  is  curious  in  the  ex 
treme.  I  should  think,  while  her  husband  is  lavishing  his 
money  upon  her  drees,  he  would  try  what  a  little  teaching 
could  do  for  her.  He  is  quite  a  presentable  gentleman 
himself" 

"  Of  course  that's  not  the  inducement,"  laughed  Mrs. 
Scammon. 

"  Well,"  replied  the  lady,  "  if  the  truth  was  known,  I'm 
afraid  about  all  her  associates  are  owing  to  the  companion 
able  qualities  of  her  husband.  Who  in  the  world  would 
chaperon  her  for  herself  alone,  I  should  like  to  know  ? 
Ugh !  the  very  idea  of  hearing  her  talk  gives  me  the  fever 
and  ague.  How,  in  this  enlightened  age,  a  woman  could 
grow  up  in  such  utter  ignorance  I  can't  conceive." 

"  Their  prestige  is  not  a  very  lofty  one,  I  believe." 

"  But.  he  is  rich  ;  and  money  covers  a  multitude  of  sins." 

"  It  would  take  something  more  than  money  to  make  mo 
recognize  them.  He  is  well  enough,  as  you  say ;  but  there 
is  scarcely  a  moment  of  the  time  that  he  is  not  subjected  to 


HAQAR     THE     MARTTR  249 

her  snappings.  He  can't  be  very  manly,  or  he  never  would 
allow  it." 

"  Allow  !  Talk  of  allow  to  Mrs.  Western  !  Why,  she 
thinks  she  has  done  him  a  lasting  favor  by  allowing  him  to 
marry  herself  and  her  entire  family.  Allow  !  I  like  that." 

After  a  few  more  such  remarks,  the  parties  separated, 
one  to  recline  in  superb  indifference  upon  a  fauteuil,  the 
other  to  chatter  and  flirt  with  the  handsome  Mr.  Western. 


CHAPTER    XXIV. 

A  DRAMATIC  SCENE,  NOT  IN  THE  BILL. 

"  SCENES  from  the  drama  ! "  "  Scenes  from  the  drama ! " 
"  That  will  be  capital,"  shouted  half  a  dozen  voices  at  once. 

"  Well,  scenes  from  the  drama  be  it,"  lazily  drones  Mrs. 
Miles  Scammon ;  "  only  don't  think  to  drag  me  into  the 
arrangement." 

The  evenings  had  been  long  and  tedious,  and  almost 
every  style  of  amusement  had  been  exhausted,  when  the 
above  happy  suggestion  gave  material  for.  talk  as  well  as 
active  exertion  to  a  little  world  of  pleasure  seekers.  Mrs. 
Scammon,  at  whose  house  the  party  was  to  come  off,  gave 
her  niece,  a  bright-eyed  little  girl  of  sixteen,  carte  blanche 
for  the  preparations. 

"  Whom  shall  we  invite  ?  "  That  was  the  next  question 
of  interest  to  be  debated.  For  once,  Mrs.  Scammon  didn't 
care,  and  Madam  Western,  to  her  enthusiastic  delight, 
on  returning  from  a  ride  in  her  superb  carriage,  found 
a  card  of  invitation  to  the  loug-yearned-for  mansion  of 
Mrs.  Miles  Scammon. 

"  Who  in  thunder  is  Mrs.  Miles  Scammon  ? "  abruptly 
questioned  Job  Thornton,  the  uncle  of  Madam  Western 
on  her  mother's  side.  "  Derned  if  I've  heard  of  any  thing 

(2-50) 


HA  GAR     THE     31  ARTY  R.  251 

but  Mrs.  Miles  Scaminon  since  I  came  home.  Can't  you 
vary  the  tune,  and  harp  upon  Mrs.  somebody  else  a  bit  ? " 

"  How  vulgar  you  are,  uncle  !  You  would  mortify  me  to 
death,  if  any  one  should  hear  you  use  such  low-bred  lan 
guage.  Suppose  Mrs.  Welman  should  hear  you  ! " 

"  Mrs.  Welman  be  hanged  !  Who  is  she,  I  wonder,  to 
turn  up  her  aristocratic  nose  at  her  betters  ?  Mrs.  Wel 
man,  whose  father  used  to  carry  parcels  for  me  when  I  kept 
the  little  grocery  at  the  corner ;  and  as  for  her,  many  a 
time  I've  seen  her  scrubbing  the  floor  of  the  old  Tremont ! 
I  wonder  if  she  remembers  it." 

"  Why,  uncle,  how  can  you  talk  so  absurd  !  They  lead 
the  ton  now,  and  bygones  ought  to  be  bygones." 

"  You  may  well  say  that,  niece.  I  dare  say  now,  you 
don't  remember  when  you  used  to  pick  up  shavings  and 
sell  them  to  the  highest  bidder.  I  do  !  " 

"Uncle!  uncle!  I  never  did  —  never !  What  would 
Mrs.  Miles  Scammon  say !  " 

"  Mrs.  Miles  Scammon  again !  You  must  eat,  drink, 
and  sleep  with  the  fear  of  Mrs.  Miles  Scammon  before 
your  eyes.  If  this  is  what  you  call  being  fashionable, 
thank  my  precious  stars,  there's  no  danger  of  my  catching 
the  disease." 

"  Mr.  Western,"  said  the  amiable  niece  a  few  hours  after, 
"  we  must  get  rid  of  uncle  Job,  by  hook  or  by  crook.  He'd 
ruin  us,  if  Mrs.  Miles  Scammon  was  to  see  him." 

Mr.  Western,  being  quite  as  much  gratified  at  the  invita 
tion  of  the  aristocrat,  although  showing  it  less  boisterously, 


HAGAR     THE     MARTYR. 

fully  concurred  with  her  in  the  expediency  of  giving  their 
whole-hearted,  but  rather  rough,  uncle  a  gentle  hint  to  find 
quarters  elsewhere. 

"  0,  certainly,"  said  he,  when  the  intimation  was  made, 
"  certainly.  I  only  hope  you  will  find  happiness  enough  in 
your  high-flown  life  to  make  amends  for  the  loss  of  a  sound 
heart.  You're  a  clever  boy,  Western,  only  a  trifle,  too 
much  led  by  the  nose  for  an  independent  man  ;  but  you  are 
a  good  boy,  and  if  ever  you  want  help,  —  the  best  of  us 
may  fall,  you  know,  —  remember  old  uncle  Job  has  a  little 
pile  of  California,  which  is  at  your  service." 

For  a  moment  there  was  a  dewiness  about  the  old  man's 
eyes,  but  when  Western  looked  again  it  was  gone.  It  was 
something  more  than  the  formal  clasp  of  fashion  with  which 
he  grasped  the  horny  hand  of  his  uncle. 

"  No,  don't  go,  uncle  Job ;  don't  go.  Something  tells 
me  I  may  want  a  true  friend  yet.  Im  not  ashamed  of  you, 
hard  as  you  look.  Stay  with  us,  and  let  wife  pout  if  she 
will.  I  can  afford  to  be  snubbed  for  such  an  honest  friend 
as  you" 

"  No,  boy,  no  !  I  should  only  be  in  the  way  here.  Be 
sides,  I  feel  like  a  cat  in  a  strange  garret,  any  how,  among 
your  crincums  and  your  crancums,  and  your  Mrs.  Miles 
Scammons.  No  !  I'm  content  as  it  is.  You  will  always 
know  where  to  find  me." 

With  another  clasp  of  the  hand  the  old  man  departed, 
muttering  to  himself,  — 

"This  comes  of   being  fashionable.    As  good  a  boy 


HAGAR     THE     MARTYR.  253 

spoiled  as  ever  came  from  the  hand  of  God.  O  fashion ! 
fashion  !  you  have  much  to  answer  for." 

The  night  of  the  party  came,  and  at  an  early  hour  car 
riages  landed  their  freights  of  beauty  at  the  dwelling  of 
Mrs.  Scammon.  Probably  there  never  was  a  greater  col 
lection  of  youth  and  beauty  at  any  one  party  in  Boston. 
Mrs.  Scammon  was  more  than  ever  superb  in  a  black  velvet 
dress,  studded  with  diamonds.  Mrs.  Welman  was  among 
the  wall  flowers,  stiff  with  brocade.  Anna  McVernon, 
Hagar,  and  Walter  Meadows  were  there  in  characters, 
they  having  been  coaxed  into  the  arrangement  by  Mrs. 
Scammon,  who  was  a  stanch  patron  of  Hagar's.  At  a 
late  hour,  before  the  scenes  commenced,  however,  Madam 
Western  arrived,  loaded  down  with  finery.  All  the  colors 
of  the  rainbow  were  blended  in  her  drapery,  and  more 
diamonds  sparkled  about  her  person  than  could  be  found  on 
all  the  other  dresses  present.  Not  even  the  courtesy  of 
hostess  could  quite  prevent  Mrs.  Scammon  from  indulging 
in  a  quiet  smile  at  her  expense. 

The  rise  of  the  curtain  in  an  alcove  attracted  general 
attention,  and  a  series  of  paintings  were  represented  by 
the  active  participants  of  the  scene.  First  came  "  Ivanhoe 
and  Rebecca."  The  Rebecca  was  represented  by  Ida, 
whose  great  dark  eyes  and  long  black  curls  correspond 
ed  gloriously  with  the  picturesque  costume.  Of  course, 
her  poet  lover  was  the  Ivanhoe.  She  would  agree  to  no 
other  arrangement,  although  it  was  suggested  that  Michael 
22 


254  HAGAB     THE     MAETTK. 

Lawrence  would  better  look  the  character.  Next  came 
Falstaff  and  sweet  Mistress  Page,  giving  the  crowd  some 
thing  to  laugh  at  as  well  as  admire.  Then  came  "  Ro 
meo  and  Juliet ;  "  Romeo  by  "Walter  Meadows,  and  Juliet 
by  Anna  McVernon.  Every  one  dissented  from  this  ta 
bleau.  It  would  be  hard  to  find  a  more  exquisite  Romeo, 
but  the  Juliet  was  entirely  out  of  place  with  Anna  as  its 
delineator.  However,  she  had  requested  the  character, 
and  it  was  not  an  easy  matter  amicably  to  refuse  her. 

Poor  Hagar !  Ever  since  this  fiend  had  become  estab 
lished  in  her  house,  there  had  been  a  series  of  persecutions 
almost  unheard  of  carried  on.  Her  health  was  suffering 
from  it,  and  it  seemed  as  if  she  had  no  longer  any  spirit  to 
resist,  or  any  desire  to  counteract  the  pernicious  influence. 
She  still  wrote  at  intervals,  but  her  verses  were  so  tinged 
with  the  gloom  of  her  mind  that  she  wisely  refrained  from 
their  publication.  She  had  never  fully  understood  Walter, 
and  now  his  manner  had  become  more  perplexing  than 
ever.  Sometimes  she  would  look  suddenly  up,  and  catch 
his  blue  eyes,  moist  with  tears,  mournfully  fastened  upon 
her  face.  Yet,  if  she  thought  to  treat  him  with  an  old-time 
familiarity,  he  would  put  her  away  gently  at  times,  and  at 
times  roughly.  Lizzie  was  still  the  guardian  angel  of  the 
house,  and  kept  some  little  restraint  upon  the  machinations 
of  Anna.  Report  was  now  current  that  an  engagement 
subsisted  between  Walter  and  Anna. 

"  It  is  hard  to  bear,  and  still  treat  her  with  the  courtesy 


IIAGAR     THE      MARTYR.  255 

due  to  an  invited  guest,"  said  Hagar  to  Lizzie,  when  she 
first  heard  the  news.  "  It  is  very  hard  to  bear." 

"  But  you  will  bear  it  ?  " 

"  Yes,  patiently  as  I  can." 

And  she  did  bear  it ;  but  day  by  day  her  efforts  for  calm 
ness  and  self-possession  showed  more  visibly.  Decay  was 
stamped  upon  her  features,  and  the  short,  hacking  cough 
sounded  harshly  upon  the  ears  of  her  friends.  Anna  was 
always  at  hand  to  nip  in  the  bud  any  appearance  of  return 
ing  tenderness,  and  thus  far  her  efforts  at  estrangement  had 
been  met  with  most  positive  success.  Hagar  sat  like  a 
statue  while  the  tableaux  were  in  progression.  The  next 
was  a  scene  from  "  Love,"  in  which,  with  her  accustomed 
cruelty,  Anna  had  suggested  that  Hagar  should  appear. 
The  three  characters,  the  Countess,  the  Empress,  and 
Haon,  were  to  be  rendered  by  Hagar,  Anna,  and  Walter. 
Mrs.  Scammon,  who  was  a  dear  lover  of  poetry,  expressed 
a  desire  to  hear  the  language  of  the  scene,  as  well  as  to  see 
the  tableaux.  Hagar  was  a  fine  reader,  and  moreover  was 
conversant  with  the  poetry  now  committed  to  her  care. 
Commencing  with  the  fifth  act,  all  went  smoothly  enough, 
until  the  words  seemed  to  Hagar  as  part  and  parcel  of  her 
own  thoughts.  As  speech  after  speech  called  forth  its 
answering  one,  she  grew  excited,  passionate,  and  wildly 
conscious  of  the  adaptation  of  the  words  to  her  present 
position.  The  audience  was  hushed  into  silence.  Not  a 
whisper,  not  a  flutter  of  a  fan  broke  up  its  depth.  All 


256  HAGAB     THE     MARTYR. 

eyes  centred  upon  the  stage,  while  Hagar,  forgetting  cau 
tion,  prudence,  every  thing  but  the  woman  before  her,  thus 
hurled  the  language  at  her  baffled  rival :  — 

"  How  couldst  THOU  love  him  ? 

How  couldst  thou  steal  a  heart  thou  knew'st  lo  be  another's  ? 
Thou  knew'st  he  loved  me,  and  did  covet  him  —  covet  a  heart  at  sec 
ond  hand. 

His  heart  was  mine  till  thou  didst  rob  me  of  it. 
Not  of  it  all, "but  of  a  part!     Yet  if  a  part  is  gone,  go  all !     Tis 
Gone  !  my  peace,  hopes,  every  thing  along  with  it. 
What  then  ?    Would  I  have  it  back  ?    No  !     I  would 
Sooner  die  !     Its  worth  was  its  fidelity.    That  lost,  , 

All's  lost !    Thou  coveted'st  a  faithless  heart !  " 

Hagar  had  grasped  Anna  by  the  arm  with  such  force 
that  a  slight  scream  betrayed  to  the  audience  how  much  of 
reality  there  was  in  her  most  natural  acting.  "With  a 
simultaneous  rush  the  spell  was  broken,  and  Hagar,  looking 
first  to  one  and  then  to  another  in  a  bewildered  maze,  final 
ly  caught  the  eye  of  Lizzie,  who  was  struggling  to  get  to 
her  friend. 

"  O,  take  me  home  —  take  me  home !  Never  let  me  go 
out  again  till  I'm  carried  out ;  never,  never  !  " 

"  Make  way  there  !  Clear  the  passage  !  Throw  up  the 
window ! "  exclaimed  Walter,  catching  her  in  his  arms  in 
time  to  prevent  her  falling  to  the  floor.  "  My  God !  you 
have  killed  her  !  " 

A  small  stream  of  blood  was  issuing  from  her  mouth, 
and  lay  in  crimson  stain  upon  "Walter's  bosom.  They  bore 
her  to  the  window,  where  the  light  breeze  swept  in  from 


HAGAR     THE     MARTYR.  257 

banks  of  snow.  At  first  resuscitation  seemed  impossible.  By 
degrees,  however,  her  eyelids  unclosed,  and  her  respiration 
renewed  its  gasping  sway ;  but  there  was  no  sense  in  the 
glimmering  of  those  wild  eyes,  no  discretion  in  the  words 
which  occasionally  fell  from  her  lips.  Her  sun  had  gone 
down  into  a  night  of  insanity. 
22* 


CHAPTER    XXV. 

THE  MESMERIST  AND  HIS  VICTIM. 

THE  winter  was  setting  in,  and  balls,  parties,  sleigh  rides, 
lectures,  and  theatres  gave  excitement  enough  to  the  circle 
in  which  our  characters  moved.  The  home  of  Mr.  Veazie 
alone  retains  its  sombre  hue.  Stern  and  cold  to  every  one 
else,  Michael  Lawrence  seemed  only  to  live  in  the  presence 
of  Ellen  Veazie.  There  was  a  thoughtful,  loving  care,  so 
acceptable  to  a  woman's  heart  in  every  act  regarding  her  ; 
a  gentle,  observant  tenderness,  so  unlike  the  harshness  of 
her  guardian,  that  no  wonder  she  received  it  with  gratitude, 
and  endeavored  to  repay  his  attentions  by  constant  and 
untiring  devotion.  But  hours  of  loneliness  would  come  — 
times  of  deep  thoughtfulness,  when  every  kindness  of  her 
stern  monster,  every  self-denial  of  his  strange  life,  every 
gentle  word  would  flash  with  lightning  swiftness  over  her 
impressive  fancy.  Then  would  come  thoughts  of  the  long 
days  and  years  when,  spite  of  his  singular  habit  of  contra 
diction,  he  had  tended  her  with  more  than  a  father's  fond 
ness.  Did  she  not  owe  him  something  for  the  watchful 
solicitude  with  which  he  carried  out  her  father's  will  ?  —  a 
solicitude  which  certainly  seemed  at  times  unnecessary 
harshness,  but  which  at  that  was  more  palatable  than  the 

(2.58) 


HAGAR     THE     MARTYR.  259 

eternal  deference  of  Mr.  Lawrence...  It  was  only  in  the 
presence  of  the  mesmerizer  that  his  influence  was  at  all 
decisive  ;  but  that  determined,  wilful  glance,  those  thrilling, 
shivering  eyes,  there  was  no  escaping  their  influence  or 
evading  their  power.  They  had  uprooted  the  honor  of 
man,  and  the  virtue  of  woman  !  They  had  incited  masses 
to  rebellion,  and  raised  revolt  where  peace  had  ever  lain 
with  folded  wings.  Should  he  give  up  the  conquest,  more 
than  half  won,  of  a  girl  so  full  of  generous  impulses,  of 
high  and  noble  resolves,  as  was  Ellen  Willard  ?  —  a  con 
quest  that  at  their  first  meeting  had  seemed  inevitable.  It 
was  not  to  be  thought  of. 

Among  the  fashionable  families  who  were  vying  with 
each  other  in  point  of  exclusiveness  and  frivolity  was  that 
of  a  Madam  Monpensieur;  a  lady,  American  by  birth, 
but  whose  Puritan  prejudices  had  been  washed  out  by 
many  years'  contact  with,  and  observance  of,  the  levities 
and  inconsistencies  of  Parisian  life.  The  indiscretion  of 
parents  whose  greatest  care  was  to  see  their  daughter  at 
the  head  of  fashionable  life,  had  given  her  an  education  at 
one  of  the  prominent  French  seminaries,  which,  with  the 
after  addition  of  a  French  husband,  initiated  her  into  the 
infidelities  which,  with  the  nation,  pass  as  lighter  crimes, 
and  rendered  her  the  last  person  in  the  world  to  have  the 
care  of  a  young  and  impressive  mind.  Her  apparent 
frankness  had  rather  favorably  impressed  Mr.  Veazie,  and 
her  seeming  interest  in  all  that  concerned  Ellen  had  awa 
kened  an  almost  sisterly  regard  in  the  bosom  of  this  impul- 


260  HAGAR     THE     MARTYR. 

sive  girl.  She,  unknown  to  Mr.  Veazie,  was  an  earnest  par 
tisan  of  Lawrence,  and  one  of  his  warmest  patrons.  Wher 
ever  Madam  Monpensieur  was,  there  too  was  Lawrence.  So 
great,  indeed,  had  become  their  intimacy,  that  scandal  was 
beginning  to  meddle  with  their  names,  and  mix  them  up  in 
no  enviable  manner.  To  counteract  this  error,  it  might 
have  been,  which  caused  her  so  strenuously  to  plead  his 
part  with  his  Ellen.  The  most  dangerous  sophistry,  the 
most  bewildering  arguments,  were  used  to  pervert  her 
mind,  and  prevent  her  dwelling  too  deeply  upon  the  situa 
tion  of  Lawrence,  as  the  husband  of  a  woman  he  detested. 

"  Will  the  utterance  of  a  few  meaningless  words,  the 
sanction  only  of  a  man  after  all,  though  bearing  the  robes 
of-  priesthood,  make  you  dearer  to  each  other  than  you  are 
now  ?  Will  you  be  truer  to  him,  or  expect  him  to  be  more 
faithful  to  you,  because  you  have  blazoned  your  love  to  the 
world  at  the  altar  —  a  very  indelicate  proceeding,  by  the 
by.  The  heart  is  the  criterion.  If  that  remains  firm,  you 
will  never  separate,  though  your  vows  have  only  been  sanc 
tioned  by  the  love  you  mutually  feel ;  and  if  it  changes, 
surely  you  would  not  desire  to  retain  the  person,  when  his 
thoughts  had  wandered  from  you  !  " 

With  such  specious  reasonings  did  the  reckless  woman  of 
the  world  strive  to  undermine  the  purity  of  a  soul  all  spotless 
in  its  impulses.  Some  said  Madam  Monpensieur  had  her 
self  been  a  victim  to  the  wiles  of  the  mesmerizer,  and  that 
with  her  easy  and  convenient  ideas  of  morality,  she  hoped, 
by  creating  pleasures  for  him,  even  though  conflicting  with 


IIAGAR     THE     MARTYR.  261 

her  own  happiness,  to  secure  some  portion,  if  not  of  his 
affection,  at  least  of  his  gratitude.  Many  and  many  a  time, 
after  listening  to  her  arguments  with  flushed  cheeks '  and 
flashing  eyes,  Ellen  would  decide  to  tell  her  guardian  all ; 
but  the  native  delicacy  of  her  mind  revolted  against  the 
subject,  and  so  she  listened  and  reasoned,  and  in  the  end 
came  near  enough  to  conviction  to  lose  her  own  true  sense 
of  the  brink  upon  which  she  was  standing.  But  good  for 
tune  was  with  her,  and  she  was  not  allowed  long  to  pervert 
her  pure  mind  with  such  distorted  philosophy.  The  charm 
was  broken  by  the  arrival  from  New  York  of  a  gay  party, 
on  a  visit  to  the  Monpensieurs.  Among  them  was  a  young 
lady  of  peculiarly  fascinating  appearance,  although  the 
closest  observer  could  not  tell  in  what  that  fascination  lay. 
She  was  not  handsome,  —  her  warmest  admirer  could  not 
lay  that  flattering  unction  to  her  charge,  —  nor  gay,  except 
at  fitful  intervals.  Her  eighteenth  summer  had  scarcely 
ripened  the  bloom  upon  her  cheek,  yet  no  one  placed  her 
age  at  less  than  twenty-five.  There  was  such  a  sedate, 
sorrowful  air,  amounting  at  times  almost  to  melancholy, 
that  it  was  next  to  an  impossibility  not  to  speculate  upon 
its  cause ;  and  with  the  spirit  of  exaggeration  which  al 
ways  imbues  gossip,  it  was  soon  currently  reported  and 
generally  believed,  that  Esther  Milroy  had,  at  some  period 
of  her  eventful  life,  been  the  victim  of  an  unfortunate  love 
affair.  This,  however,  was  far  from  the  truth.  No  girl 
in  the  circle  which  owned  her  as  a  star  had  been  more 
fortunate  in  heart  matters  than  had  herself.  Her  parents 


262  HAGAR     THE      MARTYR. 

were,  it  is  true,  an  ill-matched  pair,  —  vulgar,  showy,  and 
ill  bred,  as  two  thirds  of  the  ton  leaders  inevitably  are,  — - 
with  only  one  point  of  interest,  and  one  fact  to  be  agreed 
upon  between  them,  and  that  the  beauty  of  their  only 
child.  To  rear  her  in  every  extravagant  expense  ;  to  be 
stow,  what  they  so  greatly  needed,  an  education  of  rare  and 
thorough  mint ;  to  dress  her  in  the  most  luxuriant  style,  — 
these  were  the  daily  cares  which  agitated  with  like  strength 
the  minds  of  the  adoring  parents.  And  amply  had  they 
been  rewarded,  by  seeing  her  grow  up  into  refined  and 
polished  womanhood,  alike  the  envy  and  the  emulation  of 
the  society  into  which  wealth  had  thrown  them.  Every 
available  method  had  been  tried  to  banish  the  feeling  of 
languor  and  ennui  with  which  she  seemed  to  regard  the 
excitements  of  the  circle  in  which  she  moved.  An  air 
of  superb  haughtiness  frightened  away  from  her  the  mass 
of  men  who  would  gladly  have  supplied  the  void  so  palpa 
bly  expressed.  Her  disdainful  eyes  took  in  at  a  glance  all 
the  little  arts  and  coquetries  of  her  sex,  and  in  her  heart 
she  despised  what  seemed  to  her  so  frivolous.  Her  percep 
tive  qualities  were  vigorous  in  the  extreme,  and  in  propor 
tion  to  their  strength  was  her  contempt  of  those  to  whom 
admiration  seemed  such  a  necessary  ingredient.  It  was 
seldom  that  she  warmed  into  admiration  of  any  thing  or 
any  body,  but  when  she  did  her  conversation  was  brilliant 
and  inexpressibly  engaging.  Between  her  books  and  an 
invalid  cousin  her  time  was  chiefly  employed ;  and  when, 
as  in  the  present  instance,  she  had  been  over-persuaded  to 


HAGAB     THE     HARTYB.  263 

join  a  lively  circle,  it  was  more  to  superintend  the  nursing 
of  said  cousin  than  for  any  purpose  of  pleasure  to  be  de 
rived  from  it.  Go  when  or  where  she  would,  he  was  her 
companion.  If  in  doors,  her  hand  was  clasped  between 
the  thin,  shadowy  ones  of  the  fragile  consumptive ;  if  on 
the  streets  or  in  the  cars,  his  pale,  spiritual  face  was  as  a 
foil  by  the  side  of  her  more  animal  one.  And  dearly  he 
worshipped  the  brilliant  woman  who  guarded  him  with 
such  care,  and  dearly,  after  her  fashion,  she  loved  the 
stricken  flower  thus  withering  day  by  day  from  her  em 
brace.  Nothing  this  side  of  heaven  could  be  more  pure, 
more  holy,  more  saint-like  and  angelic  than  the  affection 
which  linked  its  golden  chain  around  these  gentle  cousins. 
If  she  had  a  passion,  it  was  her  love  for  music.  In  this 
she  revelled  and  excelled.  A  voice  clear,  full,  and  musical 
as  a  bird's,  had  been  cultivated  with  a  patience  and  an 
assiduity  that  had  left  all  competitors  far  in  the  rear  of  her 
excellence.  This  was  her  resource  from  all  annoyance  and 
fatigue.  No  invitation  was  ever  refused  by  which  she 
could  amuse  others,  or  gratify  herself,  in  this  capacity, 
and  no  one  ever  heard  her  thrilling  voice  to  forget  it,  or 
blend  its  memory  with  that  of  any  other  songstress.  In 
this  regard  she  was  alone,  exclusive,  unapproachable.  It 
was  in  the  midst  of  a  most  thrilling  sonata  that  Michael 
Lawrence  first  caught  sight  of  this  strange  being,  whose 
utter  indifference  to  admiration  or  affection  had  already 
been  poured  into  his  ear  with  many  exaggerations.  Mad 
am  Monpensieur  was  upon  the  point  of  interrupting  her 


264  HAGAR     THE     MARTYR. 

for  the  purpose  of  introduction ;  but  a  signal  from  him  kept 
her  quiet. 

"Miss  Milroy  will  pardon  my  presumption,"  he  said, 
courteously  advancing  to  the  piano,  "  but  after  that  song  it 
would  seem  of '  the  earth  too  much  earthly,'  to  come  down 
to  a  common  introduction." 

The  lip  of  the  proud  girl  curled  with  scorn  and  impa 
tience,  and  she  raised  her  eyes  for  the  purpose  of  return 
ing  some  curt  reply,  when  they  met  a  glance  at  once  so 
thrilling  and  so  respectful  that  the  words  remained  unsaid, 
and  her  eyes,  late  blazing  with  defiance,  drooped  down  upon 
the  sheet  of  music  before  her. 

"If  I  could  ever  think  of  heaven  and  the  angels,  it 
would  be  under  the.  influence  of  music  like  that.  Would  it 
be  asking  too  much  to  desire  another  song?  —  something 
sad  or  plaintive  —  something  suited  to  a  heart  that  has 
known  little  else  than  suffering,"  he  murmured  in  a  low 
tone,  designed  for  her  ear  alone. 

Whether  it  was  the  tone  or  the  glance  which  she  met  at 
that  moment  that  troubled  her,  I  know  not;  but  with  a 
flushed  cheek  and  a  quick,  embarrassed  manner,  she  went 
on  singing  song  after  song,  till  the  madam's  parlors  had 
grown  alive  with  spell-bound  listeners.  But  the  most 
rapt  and  absorbed  of  all  seemed  Michael  Lawrence,  the 
mesmerist. 

"Do  you  sing  Italian  songs?"  questionedx one  of  the 
company. 

"  No,"  she  replied ;  "  I  sing  only  what  I  feel." 


* 

HAGAB     THE      MARTYR.  265 

"And  what  you  make  others  feel,"  again  murmured 
Lawrence,  in  his  deep,  musical  whisper. 

In  a  moment  Esther  was  herself  again  —  haughty, 
superb,  and  majestic.  Other  songs  were  sung,  and  many 
performers,  if  not  as  artistic,  equally  brilliant,  tried  their 
skill  during  the  evening;  but  not  one  of  them  elicited  a 
word  of  praise  from  the  usually  voluble  Lawrence.  For 
once  Ellen  Veazie  was  passed  unregarded.  She  had  lost 
her  power  to  please  him.  Like  champagne,  while  the 
sparkle  lasted  she  amused  him ;  but  the  sparkle  had  gone, 
and  the  wine  lay  unheeded  in  its  goblet.  No  less  a  child 
in  years  than  she  had  been  a  child  in  the  facility  and  readi 
ness  with  which  she  yielded  to  his  ideas  and  desires,  it  is 
not  wonderful  to  those  who  have  learned  their  lessons  in 
the  book  of  life  that  he  longed  for  any  change,  and  most 
of  all  for  some  new  object  upon  which  to  try  the  power  of 
his  science.  O,  diabolical  science,  that  was  to  be  fostered 
and  proved  by  the  life  blood  of  bruised  and  aching  hearts ! 
Where  was  it  to  end,  if  victim  after  victim  was  thus  to 
become  distasteful  after  serving  the  short  term  of  interest 
to  which  its  master  subjected  them  ?  But  here  was  a  child 
that  was  more  than  a  woman  in  her  deep,  self-calculating 
knowledge  of  the  world.  If  he  won  her  heart  it  must  be 
with  open  eyes  and  soul  conviction.  And  yet  she  had 
trembled  beneath  his  burning  glance,  and  in  time  incredibly 
short  her  eyes  roved  restlessly  round  the  crowd  till  his  step 
Bounded  at  the  door.  She  might  avoid  him ;  it  was  evident 
ehe  did;  but  worse  symptoms  had  been  overruled,  and 
23 


266  HAGA.R     THE     MARTYR. 

these  must  be  in  this  instance ;  besides,  she  knew  that  his 
attentions  were  the  right  of  Ellen  Veazie,  and  she  was  not 
artificial  and  fashionable  enough  to  desire  any  pleasure 
from  the  torture  she  was  inflicting  upon  another.  That 
Ellen  had  become  dejected,  dispirited,  and  unhappy,  Esther 
was  the  first  to  discover. 

"  I  have  come  to  talk  with  you,"  said  she  one  day,  soon 
after  her  first  knowledge  of  Lawrence. 

Ellen  was  standing  in  the  door  as  she  approached,  and, 
with  an  impulse  hah0  of  dislike,  turned  abruptly,  for  the 
purpose  of  shunning  her  visitor.  They  were  closeted  for 
several  hours ;  and  when  Esther  came  out  again  her  eyes 
were  red,  and  her  cheeks  bore  evidence  of  tears. 

From  that  time  there  was  a  marked  avoidance  of  Law 
rence,  although  when  they  did  meet  he  contrived  to  give 
her  food  for  anxious  thought  for  many  an  after  hour. 

There  were  gay  times  indeed  after  the  arrival  of  the 
New  York  party,  and  their  delay  had  extended  many 
weeks  longer  than  at  first  it  had  been  proposed.  From 
the  ardent  admiration  of  Lawrence  he  had  become  as 
haughtily  indifferent  as  Esther  herself.  He  even  went  far 
enough  in  his  indifference  to  chatter  gayly  and  noisily 
while  she  sang  her  most  brilliant  songs.  A  contraction  of 
the  lips  and  a  moisture  about  the  eyes  showed  how  much 
Esther  felt  this  marked  and  painful  rudeness.  One  even 
ing,  after  a  more  than  usually  positive*  demonstration, 
Esther  had  wandered  off  into  the  conservatory,  which 
skirted  the  parlors,  and  filled  them  just  enough  with  ex- 


HAGAR     THE     MARTTB.  267 

quisite  fragrance.  Leaning  her  head  against  a  frame  of 
honeysuckle,  she  gave  entire  vent  to  the  feeling  which  was 
overpowering  her.  She  gazed  upward  to  the  cold,  bright 
stars;  but  even  their  glittering  beauty  could  not-still  the 
proud,  passionate  thoughts  which  were  coursing  through 
her  brain.  "And  this  is  my  philosophy,"  she  muttered, 
with  a  bitter  smile.  "  I  love  him ;  deny  it  as  I  may,  I  love 
him,  —  that  cold,  proud,  cruel  man  —  that  tempting,  tanta 
lizing,  dangerous  man  —  that  man  of  nerve,  and  power, 
and  will,  whose  smile  is  fatal  as  the  Upas's  breath !  Love 
him  !  I  that  have  hitherto  been  ice  to  his  sex  —  that  have 
ridiculed  and  defied  them  —  that  have  never  tolerated  the 
society  of  one  except  my  poor  cousin.  Ah,  poor,  poor 
Edward ! " 

The  sigh  was  echoed,  and,  starting  up,  she  encountered 
the  mournful  gaze  of  her  invalid  cousin. 

"  Can  I  escape  you  nowhere  ?  "  said  she,  petulantly ;  for 
that  he,  of  all  others,  should  have  witnessed  her  emotion 
annoyed  her  beyond  reason.  The  sad  glance  which  was 
the  only  reply  cut  her  to  the  heart. 

"O,  forgive  me,  Edward!  I  didn't  mean  that  —  not 
that  to  you,  Edward  —  my  poor,  afflicted  boy,  my  only 
friend  on  earth ;  but  I  have  been  very  unhappy  of  late, 
and  I  want  to  go  home." 

Edward  took  her  hand,  which  was  hot  and  feverish. 

"  We  will  return  to-morrow,  Esther.  There  is  no  peace 
here  for  you,  nor  for  me.  I  only  regret  that  we  ever 
came," 


268  HAGAR     TH'E     MARTYR. 

"  But  the  change  has  brought  quite  a  bloom  to  your 
cheek,  Edward." 

"  And  bleached  yours  to  the  pallor  of  snow.  0,  do  you 
think  I  have  not  seen  it  all  —  the  trial  and  the  temptation  ? 
Who  would  have  thought  it  of  you,  Esther?  I  will  not 
reproach  him,  at  least  not  just  now;  but  it  is  said  that  his 
life  has  been  one  of  heartless  cruelty ;  that  he  has  tried  his 
powers  of  fascination,  first  as  a  profession,  till  it  has  become 
a  second  nature  to  him.  An  unhappy  marriage  rang  the 
first  knell  to  his  happiness,  and  from  that  time,  as  a  sort  of 
revenge  for  the  wrong  done  him,  he  has  lost  no  opportunity 
of  adding  conquest  unto  conquest.  You,  with  your  palpa 
ble  indifference,  awoke  his  slumbering  nature,  and  in  his 
own  heart  he  has  determined  yet  that  nothing  shall  thwart 
him  of  his  prey.  For  your  own  sake,  dear  cousin,  let  us 
return  to-morrow." 

After  a  short  consultation  it  was  agreed  upon  that,  with 
out  previous  announcement,  they  should  prepare  for  their 
journey,  and  take  a  formal  leave  of  their  host  and  hostess 
in  time  to  depart  in  the  morning  train.  As  her  cousin  left 
her,  happier  in  spirits  than  he  had  been  for  many  days,  his 
place  was  supplied  by  another,  and  the  eyes  of  the  mes 
merist  were  burning  into  the  brain  of  his  designed  victim. 

"  You  here  ! "  she  exclaimed,  in  startled  wonder.  At  the 
same  time  a  thrill  of  triumph  flashed  over  her,  that  she 
had  won  him  from  the  crowd  of  worshippers  who  circled 
round  him  in  the  parlor  below. 

"  Frown  on  me  if  you  will ;  I  cannot  resist  the  impulse 


HAGAR     THE     MARTYR.  269 

which  bids  me  seek  you.  Kill  me  —  still  my  last  words 
must  be  of  the  passionate  devotion  with  which  your  im 
pressive  manner  has  inspired  me."  He  had  taken  her 
hand,  which  she  haughtily  withdrew. 

"  Insolence ! "  she  said,  scarcely  deigning  to  raise  her 
eyes. 

"  No  other  woman  has  so  imbued  me  with  that  fervor  of 
passion,  that  religion  of  the  senses,  as  you  have  done.  No 
other  woman  has  ever  filled  the  restless  void  within  my 
he-art  which  you  can  fill  by  allowing  me  to  worship  at  your 
shrine.  O  Esther,  if  you  only  knew  —  if  I  dared  tell  you 
—  what  a  life  of  storms  mine  has  been !  how  every  good 
and  generous  resolve  has  been  turned  to  clouds  and  dark 
ness  by  adverse  fate ;  how,  with  capabilities  for  loving,  with 
inordinate  desires  for  love,  I  have  still  lived  on,  unblessed 
by  the  sweet  companionship  of  affection !  When  your  glo 
rious  voice  first  thrilled  to  my  soul,  my  heart  exclaimed, 
There  lies  your  fate.  I  have  watched  for  you  at  every 
turn.  I  have  listened  to  your  voice  till  its  melody  has 
become  part  and  parcel  of  my  being.  I  have  studied  your 
face  till  each  feature  is  engraven  on  my  heart.  O  Esther! 
have  you  no  word  of  hope  —  not  one  ?  " 

By  degrees  he  had  gained  possession  of  her  hand.  The 
moonlight  lay  calm  and  clear  upon  the  thousand  homes 
of  the  city,  and  upon  the  pleading  face  so  sorrowfully  up 
turned.  The  spell-bound  girl  trembled  in  every  limb.  With 
a  last  effort  she  again  withdrew  her  hand,  and  motioned 
him  to  leave  her. 

23* 


270  H  A  G  A  R     THE     MARTTR. 

"  Be  it  so,"  said  he,  slowly  passing  to  the  door.  "  I  might 
have  known  that  fate  had  only  bitterness  in  store  for  me. 
Forgive  me,  and  forget  that  one  so  unfortunate  ever  crossed 
your  path." 

He  was  passing  away,  with  his  eyes  still  riveted  on  her 
face.  One  moment  of  intolerable  bewilderment,  one  thrill 
of  overwhelming  passion,  and  his  name,  soft  and  sweet  as 
music,  passed  her  lips. 

"Michael!" 

It  was  the  first  time  she  had  ever  called  him  by  that 
name.  In  a  moment  he  was  at  her  feet,  covering  her 
hands  with  passionate  kisses. 

"  Leave  me  now  —  leave  me.     Let  me  think." 

He  did  not  obey,  however ;  but,  after  a  protracted  inter 
view,  in  which  the  whole  soul  of  the  impulsive  but  hereto 
fore  unimpressible  girl  went  out  in  abandon  to  her  lover, 
they  left  the  conservatory  together,  and  proceeded  to  the 
parlor. 

"Father !  mother!  why  did  you  not  take  me  with  you?" 

It  was  a  wail  wild  and  bitter  as  the  last  lay  of  anguish ; 
and  with  its  utterance,  Ellen  Veazie,  who,  tired  and  weary, 
had  dropped  asleep  among  the  flowers,  and  thus  uninten 
tionally  became  a  listener  to  the  above  declaration,  fell  as 
one  dead  among  the  vines  borne  down  by  her  fall. 


CHAPTER    XXVI. 

THE  CRISIS. 

RESTLESS,  jealous,  and  discontented,  Madam  Western 
wandered  about  the  rooms  of  her  superb  mansion.  Since 
the  evening  of  the  costume  party,  Mrs.  Miles  Scammon  had 
ceased  to  show  the  least  knowledge  of  her  existence.  Her 
brief  dream  had  been  but  a  ripple  upon  the  ocean  —  past 
and  forgotten.  The  same  teachers  who  taught  Mrs.  Scam- 
mon's  children's  young  ideas  how  to  shoot  overlooked  the 
education  and  mental  culture  of  Madam  Western's ;  but 
although  the  world  knew  that  the  representatives  of  a  "  first 
family  "  were  sedulously  cautioned  against  associating  with 
the  plebeians,  and  although  the  children  knew  the  distance 
between  them,  and  although  she  knew  that  the  world  knew 
her  struggles  and  her  disappointments,  she  still  hoped  on, 
struggled  on,  determined  to  remember  no  such  word  as  fail. 
Virtue  is  its  own  reward,  however.  In  good  time,  the  car 
riage  of  Mrs.  Miles  Scammon  drew  up  before  the  lordly 
door  of  Madam  Western.  Much  as  she  desired  it,  and 
proud  as  she  was  of  the  honor,  the  visit  was  very  inop 
portune.  Madam  Western,  having  sat  in  state  for  so  many 
mornings  to  no  purpose,  had  begun  of  late  to  lounge  away 
her  minutes  in  rather  an  untidy  wrapper.  See  her  she 

(271) 


272  HAGAR     THE     MARTYR. 

would,  come  what  might  of  it.  The  chance  was  too  good 
to  be  lost ;  besides,  those  odious  Peepengers  were  glaring 
through  the  blinds  opposite,  to  see  if  Mrs.  Miles  Scammon 
alighted.  Madam  Western  was  at  home,  of  course,  and 
so  impatient  was  she  to  greet  her  guest,  that  she  followed 
her  servant  to  the  door,  and  amid  apologies  for  her  careless 
dress,  and  blushes  and  stammerings  at  her  too  evident  sen 
timent  of  pride  for  the  honor  shown  her,  she  clasped  her 
hands,  and  would  have  kissed  her,  had  not  the  aristocratic 
head  negligently  moved  away  from  a  juxtaposition  so  disa 
greeable,  to  say  the  least  of  it.  This  kissing  of  women 
don't  amount  to  much  in  a  long  run.  Judas  betrayed  his 
Savior  with  a  kiss,  and  when  he  died,  he  left  a  long  list  of 
relatives.  Besides,  it  is  an  unnatural  act,  savoring  greatly 
of  indelicacy.  No  natural  impulse  draws  women's  lips  to 
each  other,  in  close  clasping ;  and  when  witnessed  by  the 
opposite  sex  it  invariably  calls  out  some  comment  which  a 
true  woman  would  blush  to  occasion.  No !  there  is  neither 
taste  nor  delicacy  in  the  kissing  of  women,  though,  I  am 
sorry  to  say,  it  is  a  habit  disgustingly  prevalent.  But  to 
the  subject.  The  difference  between  a  well  and  an  ill-bred 
lady  never  was  more  apparent  than  during  the  interview 
of  the  two  ladies  in  question.  Mrs.  Miles  Scammon  was 
quiet,  graceful,  nonchalant,  yet  perfectly  familiar  and  at  her 
ease.  Madam  Western  was  restless,  fluttered,  and  evi 
dently  not  at  home. 

There  is  one  woman  in  the  world  in  whose  presence  I 
always  feel  uncomfortable ;  and  I  have  often  thought,  when 


HAGAE     THE'MARTYK.  273 

seeing  people  striving  so  hard  to  arrive  at  positions  which 
they  could  not  fill,  and  associate  with  persons  whose  habits 
and  associations  were  in  all  regards  calculated  to  unsettle 
one's  natural  elegance,  how  ridiculous  it  was  to  bear  so 
much  inquietude  for  so  little  honor.  I  presume  Madam 
Western,  on  this  occasion,  felt  about  as  I  do  when  encoun 
tering  the  Cold  gray  eyes  of  Charlotte  Cushman. 

After  half  an  hour's  chat,  in  which  the  guest,  by  her  own 
elegance,  quite  charmed  her  hostess  into  forgetfulness  of  her 
awful  presence,  she  prepared  to  take  her  departure. 

"  You  will  call  to  see  me  very  soon,  I  trust,  my  dear," 
said  the  patronizing  Mrs.  Miles  Scammon. 

Of  course  nothing  could  make  her  happier,  and  she 
said  so. 

"  Say  to-morrow  evening  —  for  a  quiet  time  by  ourselves. 
Bring  your  husband ;  Mr.  Scammon  will  be  at  home ;  and 
while  they  immerse  themselves  in  business  topics,  we  shall 
have  the  chance  to  improve  our  acquaintance." 

Gracefully  as  a  swan,  Mrs.  Miles  Scammon  sailed  out  of 
the  room,  down  the  hall,  over  the  steps,  into  her  carriage. 
That  magnificent  sweep  !  Madam  Western  practised  it  for 
months  afterwards,  an  hour  every  morning  before  her  mir 
ror  ;  but  what  was  so  perfectly  natural  in  the  one  failed  to 
be  acquired  by  the  other,  and  only  rendered  her  more  than 
ever  ridiculous  by  her  assumption  of  foreign  airs  and  native 
graces. 

Could  the  madam  have  heard  the  private  conference  of 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Miles  Scammon  the  evening  previous  to  his 


274  HAGA.K     THE     MARTYK. 

lady's  call,  something  of  the  exultation  with  which  she 
poured  the  happy  tidings  into  her  husband's  ears  would 
have  been  lost  in  secret  misgivings. 

The  evening  came  tardily  enough  for  Madam  "Western. 
Never  had  the  day  seemed  so  long,  or  the  hours  so  tardy  in 
their  flight,  and  never,  in  her  most  extravagant  display,  had 
she  come  from  her  robing  room  su<*h  a  mass  of  glittering 
gems.  The  mirth  flashed  from  Mrs.  Scammon's  eyes,  and 
as  hastily  withdrew,  as  she  took  in  the  ostentatious  bundle  of 
dry  goods  and  jewelry  paraded  before  her.  Her  own  dress 
was,  like  every  thing  associated  with  her  name,  elegant  in 
the  extreme.  There  were  no  ornaments  of  any  description, 
but  fold  after  fold  of  snowy  tarleton  draped  around  her 
like  a  cloud,  and  fell  in  graceful  wreaths  quite  to  the  floor. 
A  tiny  foot,  encased  in  a  shoe  which  Cinderella  might  have 
envied,  peeped  out  from  the  mist  of  muslin,  and  kept  time 
to  thoughts  which,  had  fhey  been  the  property  of  any  one 
but  the  envied  Mrs.  Miles  Scammon,  would  have  seemed 
any  thing  but  happy  ones.  Her  long  black  hair  was  wound 
in  a  massive  braid  around  her  head,  from  which  struggled 
out  a  single  curl  on  either  side  of  the  neck.  Madam  Wes 
tern  felt  more  uneasy  even  than  usual  in  her  presence ;  for 
there  was  an  occasional  contraction  of  the  brow,  and  a  sigh 
strangled  in  its  birth,  which  had  never  before  marred  the 
handsome  face  so  often  studied. 

"  What  can  the  men  find  to  talk  about,  I  wonder  ?  "  que 
ried  poor'  Madam  Western,  sitting  more  and  more  on 
thorns,  which  the  increasing  abstraction  of  her  hostess 
created. 


HAGAB     THE     MARTY  B.  275 

The  question  caused  a  start,  and  a  deeper  flush  upon  the 
cheek  of  Mrs.  Scaminon ;  but  she  was  too  well  accustomed 
to  regulate  her  emotions  not  to  retrieve  herself  at  once. 

"  O,  these  men !  Only  let  them  alone,  and  we  should  be 
the  last  of  their  thoughts,"  replied  the  hostess. 

"  Wrong  for  once,  Mrs.  Scammon,"  said  a  voice,  which 
brought  the  smiles  to  poor  madam's  face. 

"  You  would  be  vain  to  know  how  much  you  have  had  to 
do  with  our  confab  —  wouldn't  she,  Scammon  ?  " 

Mrs.  Scammon  bit  her  lip,  and  flashed  out  that  strange 
glance  upon  her  husband  which  often  before  had  charac 
terized  her  expression.  Refinement  was  so  much  her  ele 
ment,  that  she  found  it  -hard  to  recognize  the  well-meaning 
but  rough  merchant,  although  persuaded  that  it  was  a  ne 
cessity  which  knew  no  law. 

"  Scammon  and  I  are  partners,"  exclaimed  Western,  as 
soon  as  they  were  out  of  hearing  of  their  new  friends. 

"  You  don't !  "  replied  his  wife,  gasping  in  her  astonish 
ment. 

"  Yes,  but  I  do,  though.  A  cool  hundred  thousand  in 
vested  in  railroad  stock,  on  the Road.  We'll  see  now 

who'll  turn  up  their  aristocratic  noses." 

"  A  hundred  thousand  dollars  !  " 

"  A  hundred  thousand  dollars  !  quite  a  little  pile,  isn't  it  ? 
Old  Scam  rather  opened  his  eyes,  when  I  planked  for  such 
a  sum." 

"  A  hundred  thousand  dollars  !  Are  you  sure  it's  safe  ?  " 
questioned  the  wife,  her  pocket,  after  all,  weighing  more  in 
her  estimation  than  the  friendship  of  the  Scammons. 


HAGAll     THE     MARTYR. 

«  Safe  !  Mr.  Miles  Scammon  safe  I  Why  don't  you  ask 
if  the  moon  is  made  of  green  cheese,  or  if  the  earth  re 
volves  on  its  own  axis  or  somebody's  else,  or  any  other 
stupid  question,  after  that!  Mr.  Miles  Scammon  safe!" 
and  a  laugh  rang  out  quite  merrily  at  the  precaution  of  his 
little  wife,  who  could  even  ask  if  Mr.  Miles  Scammon  was 
safe  ! 

"  Any  how,  I'm  glad  them  Peepengers  will  hear  of  it. 
Only  think  !  they  never  returned  my  call,  nor  card,  nor 
any  thing,  till  they  saw  Mrs.  Scammon's  carriage  at  the 
door.  Then  the  first  thing  I  knew,  over  came  a  monstrous 
bouquet,  with  the  Misses  Peepenger's  compliments.  Per 
haps  I  didn't  show  them  what's  what !  Perhaps  I  didn't 
send  it  back  to  them  with  my  compliments,  and  that  Mr. 
Western  could  afford  to  buy  all  the  flowers  he  wanted. 
They  will  send  me  no  more  bouquets  —  now  mind  that ! 
Though  vulgar  things,  like  them,  are  forward  enough  to  do 
any  thing." 

Highly  elated  were  the  worthy  couple  at  the  occurrences 
of  the  evening.  Not  so  the  Scammons.  As  the  door 
closed  upon  the  visitors,  the  smile  faded  from  the  aristo 
cratic  lips  of  Mrs.  Miles  Scammon  —  the  brightness  from 
her  eyes ;  and  holding  off  the  offending  hand  that  had  re 
turned  the  parvenue  clasp,  with  a  gush  of  tears  she  sank 
down  among  her  muslins,  as  miserable  as  if  her  husband 
was  not  the  millionnaire. 


CHAPTER    XXVII. 

THE  DYIXG  STKAWBEBEY  GIKL. 

A  MESSEXGER  stood  talking  with  Ida  Chiffering  in  the 
doorway  —  the  little  strawberry  girl  was  dying.  The  wo 
man  who  brought  the  message  was  a  dark,  stern-looking 
creature,  whose  eyes  seemed  to  have  grown  unnaturally 
bright  through  her  tears. 

"I  was  loath  to  come,"  she  said,  in  a  tone  which  ex 
plained  more  than  words  the  condition  of  her  life.  "  Such 
as  /  have  poor  welcome  at  the  doors  of  the  p«re."  And 
she  cast  her  eyes  down,  sweeping  them  over  her  person, 
as  if  she  would  gladly  scath  out  the  stain  upon  her  life. 

"  She  desired  so  much  to  see  you  once  again,"  she  went 
on,  still  drooping  her  eyes  to  the  ground ;  "  and  I  love 
her  —  O,  so  dearly !  You  can  never  know  how  dearly  the 
poor  and  the  depraved  cling  to  that  they  love." 

"  Wait  a  moment  for  me,  and  I  will  accompany  you," 
replied  Ida,  in  her  gentle,  pitying  tones. 

The  eyes  of  the  strange  woman  were  lifted  now,  and 
searching  into  Ida's  face. 

"  You  accompany  me  !  No  —  no  —  no  ;  that  would 
never  do.  There  is  a  distance  between  you  and  me  that 
all  the  speed  in  the  world  cannot  make  shorter  —  there  is 
24  (277) 


278  HAGAK     THE      MARTTK. 

a  difference  between  us  that  could  not  be  greater  if  I  was 
black  and  you  the  white  angel  that  you  are !  No  ;  I  will 
leave  my  address,  and  you  can  follow  at  your  leisure." 

Placing  a  card  in  Ida's  hand,  she  withdrew,  and  passed 
rapidly  down  the  street,  turning  neither  to  the  right  nor  the 
left,  till  a  low,  neat  little  house  was  gained,  into  which  she 
disappeared. 

"  In  a  brown  study,  Ida  ? "  said  her  poet,  as  she  stood 
gazing  too  intently  for  seeing  upon  the  street  whereon  she 
last  caught  a  glimpse  of  her  visitor. 

"  You  remember  the  little  strawberry  girl,  don't  you  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  she  that  was  a  secret.  By  the  by,  I  intended  to 
know  more  of  her." 

"  She  is  dying,  and  has  sent  for  me." 

"  I  will  go  with  you ;  for  I  am  mistaken  if  it  is  exactly 
the  place  for  you  to  go  alone." 

Half  an  hour  afterwards  the  two  knocked  at  the  door  of 
the  strawberry  girl.  The  same  woman  who  had  brought 
the  note  to  Ida  came  to  give  them  admittance.  She  was 
evidently  unprepared  for  the  visitation  of  any  one  but  Ida, 
and  for  a  moment  seemed  undecided  whether  to  admit 
them. 

"  She  was  not  over  chary  of  my  peace  or  good  fame  — 
why  should  I  be  of  hers  ?  "  at  length  she  murmured,  as  if 
answering  to  her  conscience  for  the  step  she  was  taking. 
With  that  she  motioned  them  in,  and  then  threw  another 
door  open,  which  communicated  with  the  child's  bed  room. 
Though  every  ray  of  light  was  excluded  from  the  room,  it 


H  A  G  A  R     THE     MARTYR.  279 

was  easy  to  perceive  that  they  were  not  alone.  Low  sobs 
came  from  some  one  kneeling  by  the  side  of  the  bed,  and 
once  a  fair  jewelled  hand  brushed  away  the  hair  lying 
loose  upon  the  child's  forehead.  They  were  about  to  retreat, 
being  unwilling  to  disturb  such  apparent  grief,  come  from 
what  source  it  might ;  but  the  woman  who  had  admitted  them 
stood  in  the  doorway,  and  seemed  to  bar  their  passage. 

"  She  should  have  been  human  while  humanity  would 
have  been  of  service,"  she  murmured. 

The  sound  of  voices  disturbed  both  the  dying  child  and 
the  weeping  mother,  for  she  it  was. 

"  It  is  an  old  story,  rife  since  the  world  began,"  said  the 
woman,  in  answer  to  Ida's  question  of  the  occasion  of  her 
illness.  "  I  was  poor,  and  she  too  feeble  for  the  employment 
forced  upon  her  by  unnatural  parents." 

"  Cruel,  cruel !  "  murmured  the  voice  at  the  bedside. 

The  eyes  of  the  speaker  glittered  like  daggers  drawn 
from  their  sheath ;  but  she  went  on. 

"  I  knew  how  it  would  end.  I  sent  till  I  was  tired  of  it 
for  the  means  to  save  her  life." 

"  Cruel  —  how  cruel ! "  again  came  from  the  sick  room. 

"  Were  you  ever  kind  to  me,  Anna  McVernon,  that  I 
should  show  you  mercy  ?  Ask  your  own  heart.  She  is 
reaping  the  reward  of  her  system  of  torturing  now,"  said 
she,  addressing  herself  to  Ida. 

Anna  rose  from  the  bed  with  every  trace  of  emotion  re 
moved.  Calm  as  if  in  her  own  house,  she  motioned  Ida 
and  her  companion  to  the  bed. 


280  HAGAB     THE     MARTYR. 

The  child,  who  had  seemed  sleeping,  opened  its  eyes,  and 
held  out  its  arms  to  Ida.  And  how  pale  she  was !  —  how 
thin  and  worn ! 

"  I'm  going  to  heaven,"  said  she,  in  her  childish  whisper. 
"  Mamma  says  I  shall  not  be  a  secret  there,  nor  have  to 
work  when  my  head  aches,  nor  feel  sorry,  nor  sad,  nor  any 
thing  but  happy.  O,  I  wish  I  was  in  heaven  ! " 

"  Poor,  poor  girl !  "  said  Ida,  bursting  into  tears. 

"  Don't  cry.  There  are  no  more  tears  there.  Shan't 
you  be  glad  when  you  go  to  heaven  ?  I  shall  look  for  you 
every  day." 

"  Poor  child  !     There  are  no  days  in  heaven,  darling." 

"  And  shan't  I  know  you  and  mamma  there  ?  " 

"  Don't  ask  me.  I  don't  know.  "We  don't  any  of  us 
know,  darling.  It  is  to  be  with  God  and  the  angels.  That 
is  all  we  know." 

"  Did  you  ever  see  an  angel  ?  "  said  the  child,  gazing  up 
ward  with  that  holy,  reverent  look  which  all  dying  persons 
wear. 

«  No,  darling." 

"  How  do  you  know,  then,  that  they  live  in  heaven  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know." 

"  Then  I  don't  want  to  die  —  I  don't  want  to  die.  Pray 
God  not  to  let  me  die  !  "  And  the  pale  face  grew  paler  with 
terror. 

"  O  God  ! "  cried  Ida,  gathering  her  in  her  arms.  "  I 
have  deprived  her  of  her  beautiful  faith,  and  I  have  none 
left  to  give  her  in  return ! " 


HAGAR     THE     MARTTB.  281 

Beautiful  faith  ! 

Ida  said  truly.  The  sweet,  trusting  faith  of  childhood  is 
beautiful.  Pity  the  taint  of  earthly  knowledge  should  ever 
mar  its  holiness  and  truth. 

.     Slowly  and  by  degrees  the  look  of  terror  gave  place  to 
the  old  holy  expression  of  trustingness. 

"  O,  there  .are  angels  there  !  I  can  see  them  now.  I 
know  them  for  angels.  Yes,  there  are  angels  in  heaven, 
and  I  am  going  to  them.  Mamma  !  " 

Anna  rose  to  speak  to  her. 

"  Not  you,  lady.     My  other  mamma." 

The  woman  who  had  been  quietly  weeping  under  the 
cover  of  the  window  curtains  came  slowly  forward. 

"  Kiss  me,  mamma  !     Good  by  !     Good  by,  sweet  lady." 

The  sun  came  slanting  in  through  the  window  blinds,  and 
lay  in  little  golden  pools  upon  the  bed ;  the  breeze  crept 
in,  and  lifted  the  matted  locks  carefully  as  a  mother  would 
have  done ;  while  the  rustling  of  the  vines  over  the  window, 
the  stifled  sobs  of  the  party  present,  and  the  labored  res 
piration  of  the  little  sufferer,  were  the  only  sounds  that  dis 
turbed  that  chamber  of  death. 

"  I'm  going  to  sleep  now,"  she  whispered  in  the  ear  of 
the  woman  whom  she  called  mamma.  "  Say  Our  Father 
who  art  in  heaven,  for  me.  I'm  going  to  sleep  ! "  And  so 
she  did ;  but  it  was  the  sleep  from  which  she  would  wake 
no  more  but  in  heaven,  among  the  angels  whom  she  recog 
nized  on  earth. 

24* 


CHAPTER    XXVIII. 

THE  WEALTHY  PAEVENCS. 

"  Now  that  is  what  I  call  slap-up  and  tidy,"  soliloquized 
uncle  Job  Thornton,  turning  himself  round  and  round 
before  the  glass,  scrutinizing  each  new  point  of  excellence, 
and  practising  such  airs  and"  manoeuvres  as  he  thought  best 
adapted  to  his  new  character.  . 

"  If  this  here  harness  don't  please  Becky  Western,  then 
I'll  never  bet  agin,  and  that's  a  fact.  But  it  can't  help  it ; 
no,  it  can't  possibly  help  it.  My  hyes,  Job  !  but  here's  a 
go,  at  your  time  o'  life !  I  arn't  quite  sure  but  you're  a 
precious  old  fool,  Job ;  but  time'll  show,  time'll  show."  This 
last  bit  of  argument  was  addressed  to  the  Job  in  the  look 
ing  glass,  who,  it  must  be  said,  looked  rather  thoughtful 
and  very  uncertain. 

"  There's  no  time  to  be  lost.  I'm  tired  of  this  here  shut- 
off  life.  Old  Job  never  was  made  for  single  blessedness, 
and  he  can't  stand  it,  not  that  he  knows  on.  Why  shouldn't 
he  be  fashionable  ?  that's  the  question.  If  mopusses  will 
do  it,  he's  got  a  cart  load  or  less.  If  there  is  any  peculiar 
hang  to  it,  he'll  get  it  in  no  time.  My  hyes !  but  won't 
Becky  stare  ?  " 

The  very  idea  sent  uncle  Job  off  into  one  of  his  immense 

(282) 


HAGAR      THE      MARTYR.  283 

laughs,  which  was  brought  up  of  a  sudden  by  the  entrance 
of  the  waiter. 

"  Did  you  ring  ?  " 

"  Did  I  ring  ?  Well,  yes ;  I  guess  I  did  ring.  Why 
don't  you  look  sharp  when  a  nob  is  to  be  attended  to? 
Who  am  I,  I  should  like  to  know  ?  " 

"  Old  Job  Thornton,  I  believe,  sir,  though  no  one  could 
ever  know  you  in  that  rig." 

"  Mr.  Obadiah  Thornton,  Esq.,  and  nothing  shorter. 
And  as  to  the  knowin',  that's  just  what  I  don't  want.  Of 
course  you  never  saw  me  before." 

"Sir!" 

"  I  say  of  course  you  never  saw  me  before.  Isn't  that 
as  plain  as  the  nose  on  your  face  ?  You  never  saw  me 
before  —  you  wouldn't  know  me  if  you  was  to  see  me  agin. 
That's  what  I  want  to  get  at.  If  I  should  happen  to  drop 
in  with  a  party  of  ladies  and  gentlemen  as  is  ladies  and 
gentlemen,  you  wouldn't  remember  ever  to  have  seen  me. 
You  understand." 

"  Well,  I  don't  —  know  —  as  I  could  help  knowing  you." 

"  Do  you  know  a  golden  guinea  when  you  sees  it  ?  " 

"  O,  don't  I  neither  ?  Don't  ax  me ;  you  hurts  my  feel- 
&*." 

"  Well,  here's  one  on  'em.  Just  you  pocket  that.  Now, 
that's  my  argument.  For  every  time  you  don't  know  me 
you  shall  have  its  feller ;  for  every  time  you  do  know  me 
I'll  take  you  by  the  scruff  of  your  neck  and  the  seat  of 
your  trousers,  and  pitch  you  out  of  the  winder !  That's 


284  HAGAB     THE     MARTYR. 

my  argument.     Now  do  you  think  you  could  help  knowing 
me?" 

"  Me,  sir !  I  wouldn't  know  you  from  a  mutton  head  if  I 
met  you  in  my  porridge  dish,  as  the  sayin'  is." 

"  It's  lucky  for  you  that  it  is  a  saying  —  that  about  the 
mutton  head.  Well,  now,  the  next  move  is,  I  want  a  pair 
of  carriages  and  a  hoss." 

«A  what,  sir?" 

"  A  pair  of  hosses  and  a  carriage,  stupid !  And,  look  ye  ! 
I  don't  want  none  o'  your  spavined,  knock-kneed,  creepin' 
animals  ;  now  do  you  understand  that  ?  " 

"  Well,  I  don't  know  as  I  do,  quite." 

"  Here ;  do  you  see  this  here  list  of  goold  ?  " 

"  I  don't  see  nothin'  else.  Criminy  !  you're  a  buster  of 
the  first  water ! " 

"  Well,  pocket  it.     Now  do  you  understand  ?  " 

"  Don't  I  neither  ?  and  won't  I  keep  understanding,  from 
this  day  till  next  day  after  never,  while  you  hold  out  such 
wery  stavin'  arguments  as  these  ere.  I  don't  think  I  could 
forget  it  if  I  was  to  try  —  I  don't.  You  shall  'are  the 
'osses,  sir ;  —  dashin'  ones,  sir ;  —  'osses  as  has  got  plenty 
of  go  in  'em ;  —  'osses  as  shall  be  proud  to  cany  you,  sir. 
O,  I've  got  a  memory  like  a  meeting  'ouse,  I  have."  Bow 
ing  himself  out,  and  stopping  in  the  passage  to  take  a  lov 
ing  peep  at  his  gold,  the  servant  left  uncle  Job  more  than 
ever  elated. 

"If  such  as  he  gets  stunned  with  this  rig,  what  will 
Becky  Western  say  ?  " 


HAGAR     THE     MARTYR. 


285 


"  Carriage  at  the  door,  sir ;  'osses  champin'  the  bit  with 
impatience,  sir." 

"  That's  the  ticket.  Now  hand  me  my  tile.  How  do  I 
look?" 

"  Why,  I  —  don't  —  know  as " 

"  Do  you  see  that  gold  piece  ?  " 

«  O,  criminy !  don't  I  ?  " 

"  "Well,  pocket  it.    Now  how  do  I  look  ?  " 

" Magnifferous,  sir!  There's  not  a  snob  in  all  Bosting 
can  hold  a  candle  to  you,  sir.  Perfectly  beaueAiful,  sir ! 
You'll  cut  such  a  swell,  sir,  as  was  never  cut  before,  and  as 
will  never  be  cut  again,  sir." 

"You're  a  sensible  feller,  Bill  —  leastwise  what's  your 
name  —  and  I'll  reward  you  yet." 

It  would  have  been  worth  something  to  a  fun  lover  to 
see  uncle  Job,  in  his  new-found  dignity,  strutting  loftily  to 
the  carriage.  The  servant  had  told  him  the  truth  about 
the  "'osses."  • 

"  They  are  hard  'uns  to  look  at,  but  good  'uns  to  go," 
said  the  driver,  mounting  guard  upon  the  box.  "  Where 
now?" 

"  To  —  Mount  Vernon  Street,  quick  as  the  Lord  will 
let  you." 

In  five  minutes  more,  Madam  Western  was  greatly  sur 
prised,  in  the  midst  of  her  morning  levee,  to  see  a  hackney 
coach  stop  at  her  door ;  more  greatly  -surprised  to  see 
uncle  Job  Thornton  alight ;  and  most  greatly  surprised  to 
see  him  swagger  into  her  parlor  with  the  rakish  sort  o 


286  HAGAB     THE     MARTYR. 

swing  which  he  fondly  imagined  was  tip-top  fashionable. 
A  pair  of  black  pants,  a  trifle  tighter  than  the  law  allows, 
a  black  coat,  the  waist  being  next  thing  to  limitless,  a 
white  vest,  an  eye  glass,  a  pair  of  lavender  gloves,  and  an 
Ellsler  cane  masked  what  was  once  —  alas  the  day !  —  old 
Job  Thornton.  Had  the  ghost  of  Hamlet's  father  walked 
into  the  room  it  would  have  created  less  consternation  in 
the  mind  of  Madam  Western.  There  was  no  help  for  it. 
Mrs.  Miles  Scammon  sat  scrutinizing  him  through  her  eye 
glass,  evidently  expecting  an  introduction.  If  wishes  had 
been  horses,  uncle  Job  would  have  found  himself  flounder 
ing  in  the  fountain  under  the  window ;  but  as  it  was,  only 
a  torn  rosebud  went  out  in  his  stead,  and  lay  floating  for 
hours  afterwards  among  the  gold  and  silver  fishes. 

"  I  say,  Becky,  ain't  this  fly,  eh  ?  "  whispered  uncle  Job 
to  his  discomfited  niece.  "  You  needn't  faint ;  I  know  how- 
to  come  it.  I've  been  practising  as  you  used  to  do  before 
the  glass.  Introduce  me.  "Why  don't  you  introduce  me  ? 
Don't  you  see  that  old  lady  with  the  eye  glass  is  a-waitin' 
for  an  introduct  ?  " 

"  Do  go  —  for  Heaven's  sake,  go ! "  implored  the  morti 
fied  madam. 

"  Go !  I  guess  so,  after  all  this  rig  up !  Do  you  think 
I'm  a  fool  ?  If  you  don't  introduce  me,  I'll  do  it  myself. 
Mrs. — •-" 

"  Hush !  I'll  do  it." 

"  Well,  then,  cut  —  and  blamed  quick,  too.  You're 
ashamed  of  me  —  that's  what  it  is.  As  for  that,  I  can  buy 


HAGAK     THE     MABTYK.  287 

and  sell  old  Mother  Thing-em-bob,  as  little  as  you  think  of 
me.  Go,  indeed !  Not  by  this  light." 

Seeing  there  was  no  other  alternative,  Madam  Western 
took  his  arm,  and  led  him  into  the  room. 

"  My  uncle  —  Job  Thornton.  He's  an  oddity,"  she  whis 
pered  in  an  undertone  to  Mrs.  Scammon,  "  but  immensely 
rich." 

"  You  may  well  say  that"  broke  in  uncle  Job,  who  had 
only  heard  the  last  of  the  sentence.  "  Immense  is  no  word 
for  it.  The  mopusses  I've  spent  upon  this  ere  rig  up 
would  be  a  fortin'  for  some  folks.  Only  look  at  that,  and 
weep  ! " 

Uncle  Job  drew  a  large  gold  watch  from  his  pocket,  to 
which  was  suspended  what  he  called  "  two  stunning  seals." 

"  Look  a  here  !  two  bobs  and  a  sinker !     Eh,  what  ?  " 

This  last  exclamation  was  elicited  by  seeing  Madam 
"Western's  lips  moving  behind  the  window  curtain.  As  no 
further  information  came  from  that  quarter,  he  went  on  as 
if  no  interruption  had  occurred. 

"There's  a  bosom  pin,  too;  the  mopusses  I  paid  for 
that !  Eh,  what  ?  "  Again  the  mysterious  lip  movement 
arrested  him. 

"  What's  that  you  say  ?  Ain't  I  doin'  it  brown  ?  If  I 
ain't,  spit  it  out,  and  done  with  it.  If  there  is  any  thing  I 
do  hate,  it  is  to  be  mumbled  at,  and  not  know  what  it's  for. 
Eh,  what's  that  ?  " 

A  low,  plaintive  voice  was  heard  under  the  window. 

"  We  have  nothing  for  you ;  go  away ;  go  away.     If  we 


288  HAGAR     THE     MAKTTR. 

encourage  beggars  we  shall  have  the  -whole  town  at  our 
door,"  urged  Madam  Western. 

"  O,  come  now ;  you're  not  going  to  send  off  the  old 
woman  in  that  ere  fashion.  Say  —  you  —  old  woman! 
here !  come  back  here  ! "  called  out  uncle  Job,  leaning 
half  out  of  the  window.  The  beggar  thus  importuned 
turned  and  answered  to  the  call. 

"  What's  the  difficulty,  old  woman  ?  Where's  the  pain, 
eh  ?  What'll  ye  take  ?  I  mean,  what's  the  trouble  ?  " 

The  usual  story  was  told,  with  the  usual  emphasis,  which 
sent  uncle  Job's  hands  down  deep  into  his  pockets,  from 
which  they  returned  laden  with  small  change  for  the  beggar. 

"  There,  take  that,  and  be  off  with  you.  Don't  stop  to 
thank  me  ;  I  can't  bear  thanks.  I  tell  you  to  cut ;  do  you 
understand  that  ?  For  sissy's  sake,"  pleaded  uncle  Job,  as 
he  met  the  angry  eye  of  Madam  Western.  Sissy  had 
been  the  pet  of  uncle  Job's  family ;  his  sister,  in  fact,  who 
had  early  fallen  a  victim  to  consumption.  Whatever  good 
deed  or  generous  action  he  might  have  done,  it  was  ever 
prefaced  or  followed  with  the  pleading  "  for  sissy's  sake." 

"  Well,"  said  Madam  Western,  "  I  never  encourage 
beggars.  There  is  not  one  honest  one  out  of  ten." 

"  But  suppose,"  said  uncle  Job,  "  it  should  be  that  one  hon 
est  one  that  you  had  said  no  to.  Suppose  that  one  honest 
one  was  poor,  and  sick,  and  starving,  and  you  had  sent 
him  away  because  of  the  nine  dishonest  ones.  For  my  part, 
I  don't  care  how  much  I  believe,  if  I  don't  believe  too  little. 
I  had  rather  that  nine  dishonest  ones  should  say,  '  I  took 


HAGAR     THE     MARTYR.  289 

him  in,'  than  that  one  poor  and  honest  one  should  feel  that 
I  held  back  my  little  utmost  from  his  starving  mouth. 
That's  my  argument.  It  mayn't  be  a  very  popular  one, 
nor  very  popularly  expressed ;  but  there  it  is,  and  them  as 
has  a  better  can  hold  to  it,  say  I." 

"  I  like  you,  uncle  Job." 

"  Sakes  alive !  where  did  you  come  from  ?  " 

"  I  like  you,  uncle  Job." 

"  I'm  glad  on  it ;  I  don't  know  who  you  be,  but  you're 
a  sweet  one  to  look  at,  and  you  like  uncle  Job,  and  you 
ain't  afeard  to  say  so.  That's  enough  for  me.  Sakes  alive ! 
and  don't  she  look  like  sissy  ?  " 

"  And  who  was  sissy,  uncle  Job  ?  " 

The  small,  white  hands  rested  in  the  horny  palm  of  the 
old  man,  while  the  soft,  brown  eyes  went  up  in  sympathy 
to  his  face. 

"  Who  was  sissy  ?  " 

"  She  was  an  angel,  if  ever  an  angel  lived  in  human 
form.  She  was  too  good  for  this  earth ;  she  couldn't  stan' 
it ;  though,  if  I  could  have  saved  her,  there  is  not  a  stone 
on  earth  I'd  left  unturned.  There  is  not  a  trouble  or  a 
sorrow  I  wouldn't  have  borne  for  her  sake.  All  the  causes 
that  carry  grief  to  the  heart  I  would  have  defied  or  shared, 
or  taken  'em  to  myself,  if  I  could  have  saved  one  blessed 
tear  from  spoiling  her  bright  eyes.  I  couldn't  do  it,  lady ; 
I  couldn't  do  it.  There  was  nobody  could  help  being  kind, 
and  good,  and  affectionate  to  her ;  but  I  think  there  came 
one  that  couldn't  love  her  just  a.<  she  loved  him  —  I  think 
25 


290  H  A  G  A  K      THE      M  A  R  T,Y  II. 

there  did.  She  would  have  been  torn  to  pieces  before 
she'd  have  said  so ;  but  I  think  there  did,  for  after  he  was 
gone  she  pined  and  pined,  as  I  have  seen  a  flower  as  didn't 
get  the  sunlight  it  wanted.  Bimeby  she  died.  It  wasn't 
much ;  hundreds  of  people  die  every  day ;  but  it  was  every 
thing  to  me.  I  was  poor  then  as  any  body  need  be,  and  so 
I  went  off  to  Californy.  I  made  a  heap  of  money  there  — 
nobody  but  me  knows  how  much ;  but  I'd  give  every 
blessed  .cent,  and  beg  my  bread  from  door  to  door,  for  one 
of  her  lovin'  smiles  and  lovin'  words  —  I  would,  I  would!  " 

The  tears  were  running  down  over  uncle  Job's  face 
faster  than  the  bright  little  thing  who  stood  by  his  side 
could  wipe  them  away.  There  was  a  misty  look  about 
Madam  Western's  eyes,  and  even  Mrs.  Miles  Scammon 
swallowed  a  sigh  which  sounded  very  like  a  sob.  Only  the 
still,  fair  girl  who  seemed  most  interested  in  the  story 
retained  her  usual  calm. 

"I've  nobody,  nobody  now !  What's  the  use  of  my  mo- 
pusse's,  and  she  dead  and  cold  in  the  ground  ?  " 

"Hike  you,  uncle  Job!"  said  the  soft,  still  voice. 

Bless  that  sweet,  sympathetic  tone !  The  world  cannot 
be  all  bad  while  simple,  gentle  hearts  like  hers  beat  for 
sorrows  not  their  own. 

All  through  that  long  morning,  helping  him  out  when  he 
floundered  in  the  sea  of  small  talk,  defending  his  absurdi 
ties  upon  the  plea  of  his  goodness,  standing  in  the  door  of 
ridicule,  and  shielding  his  mistakes,  was  this  sweet  young 
girl,  who  never  in  all  her  life  had  seemed  to  care  for  any 


HAGAR     THE     MARTYR.  291 

V 

thing  or  any  body  enough  to  interest  herself  as  she  was 
now  doing.  Her  cousin,  the  superb,  and  her  invalid 
brother  alone  occupied  her  thoughts.  But  now  it  seemed 
as  if  a  new  existence  was  open  to  her  as  an  existence  of 
usefulness.  She  had  been  serviceable  to  a  human  being, 
and  the  deference  and  the  almost  ludicrous  trustingness 
with  which  he  appealed  to  her  to  unravel  some  knotty 
point,  proved  that  it  was  not  unappreciated.  The  conver 
sation  again  toik  a  lively  turn,  just  lively  enough  to  bring 
out  uncle  Job's  odd  sayings.  Finally,  to  cap  the  climax, 
when  Mrs.  Miles  Scammon  rose  to  go,  he  had  offered  her 
his  hard,  horny  hand,  for  a  parting  tribute.  Of  course,  she 
was  too  fashionable  to  see  it,  or  to  observe  Madam  West 
ern's  embarrassment  in  consequence. 

"  You  can  shake  hands  with  me  !  "  said  the  little  fairy, 
coming  back  to  him  from  the  carriage. 

"  O,  bless  you  !  bless  you !  Just  for  all  the  world  like 
sissy  used  to  do.  If  you  had  no  objection,  I  should  like  to 
kiss  you  — just  for  sissy's  sake." 

She  had  no  objection ;  so  uncle  Job  very  gingerly  lifted 
the  bright  face  up,  and  touched  the  red  lips  with  a  gusto 
worthy  of  a  more  practised  hand. 

"  I  like  you  !     I  do  like  you,  uncle  Job  !  " 

The  next  moment  a  fair  hand  flung  him  a  kiss  from  the 
carriage,  which  was  just  turning  the  corner  of  the  street. 

"  How  could  you ! "  exclaimed  Madam  Western,  the 
moment  her  fashionable  friends  were  out  of  sight. 

"  Why  !  How  could  I  do  what  ?  Didn't  I  do  it  up  tip 
top?" 


ZiJz  H  A  G  A  R      THE     MARTYR. 

"  To  come  here  at  all  in  that  trim,  was  perfectly  ridicu 
lous  !  And  then  to  go  on  as  you  did !  If  I  could  have 
sunk  into  the  earth,  I  should  have  been  glad.  What  on 
earth  Mrs.  Miles  Scammon  will  think,  I  don't  know  !  " 

"  Think  of  what  ?  " 

"  Why,  the  way  you  acted !  And  then  to  blubber  about 
sissy  so  I  Why,  it  was " 

"  Stop  a  bit  now  !  Stop  a  bit !  Abuse  me  if  you  like. 
My  shoulders  is  broad  enough  to  bear  it.  But  when  you 
speak  of  sissy,  there's  a  pint  as  I  won't  bear  to  have  touched 
with  disrespect.  Mind  that,  now,  Becky  Western  as  was ; 
Madam  Western  as  is.  Let's  come  at  it  logically.  Sup- 
pos'n  I  did  blubber ! " 

"  Do  you  suppose  Mrs.  Miles  Scammon  would  have  be 
trayed  her  feelings  in  that  way  ?  " 

"Why  not?" 

"  In  the  first  place,  it  is  not  fashionable  to  show  any  emo 
tion  !  Why,  if  every  friend  in  the  world  that  Mrs.  Miles 
Scammon  has  was  to  die,  you  would  not  see  the  slightest 
quiver  of  the  lip,  no  more  than  if  she  was  bidding  them 
good  night ! " 

"  Then  hang  Mrs.  Miles  Scammon  —  dern  and  thunder, 
Mrs.  Miles  Scammon  !  I  thought  I  was  lonely  away  in  a 
hotel  by  myself,  and  so  I  took  it  into  my  head  to  get  this 
ere  rig,  and  come  back  here  and  play  elegant  with  you. 
You  know  you  wasn't  once  any  more  at  home  among  the 
snobs  than  I  am  now ;  but  I  thought,  thinks  I  to  myself, 
I'll  see  how  she  piles  it  on,  —  meaning  you,  —  and  perhaps 


HAGAK      THE      MARTYR.  293 

I  can  get  the  hang  of  it  in  time,  —  but  —  I've  had  enough 
of  it.  If  fashion  breaks  the  neck  of  feeling,  I  don't  want 
to  be  fashionable.  If  one  must  nod  and  smile  when  one 
feels  more  like  bustin',  to  be  in  the  style,  let  it  be  long 
years  before  I'm  in  any  such  fashion.  I  thought  fashiona 
ble  people  were  like  other  people,  with  this  exception  of 
the  mopusses ;  being  kind  to  each  other,  and  affectionate  to 
each  other,  and  drawing  nigh  to  each  other  in  the  thousand 
ways  which  bring  folks  to  an  understanding  like ;  but  I  find 
it  is  all  a  mistake  —  mistake  that  has  been  growin'  and 
increasin',  till  bimeby  —  mind  my  words  —  there'll  be  no 
more  likin's  nor  affections,  no  drawings  together  like  one 
human  family,  as  God  designed  us  to  be,  nor  any  thing  but 
cold,  selfish,  calculatin'  critters,  with  no  more  to  do  with 
happiness  than  the  aulomaters  that  shake  their  heads  and 
nod  in  the  window  yonder  !  " 

All  the  while  he  was  speaking,  uncle  Job  had  been 
divesting  himself  of  his  finery,  putting  it  away  from  him 
as  if  it  was  sometliing  loathsome,  from  which  he  had  a 
narrow  escape. 

"  The  great,  lonely,  solitary  life  of  livin'  for  one's  self!  " 
he  went  on,  as  he  deposited  his  heavy  watch  with  other 
trinkets  upon  the  table.  "  Afeard  to  speak  to  this  one, 
leastwise  they  was  a  step  lower  on  the  ladder  than  them 
selves  ;  and  passin'  that  one  as  if  he  was  the  dirt  upon  the 
ground,  because  he  was  born  with  nothin'  but  a  sound 
heart  and  a  clear  conscience.  Passin'  with  the  crowd,  and 
not  being  of  the  crowd  —  no  !  before  I'd  do  that,  I'd  go 
25  * 


IIAGAR      THE      MAKTYH. 

down  to  the  Frog  Pond  some  night,  when  there  was  nothing 
but  the  stars  to  see  me,  and  go  to  sleep  there  forever  and 
forevennore,  amen  !  There,  take  them  all,  —  watch,  pin, 
rings,  seals,  —  a  precious  heap  of  old  Job  Thornton's  folly ! 
I've  had  enough  of  fashionable  life  for  one  day." 

Without  another  word,  or  another  look,  he  darted  out 
into  the  street,  and  walked  straight  to  his  hotel.  At  the 
door  he  met  the  obsequious  waiter,  whom  he  seized  by  the 
collar. 

"  You  old  fool,  you  !  how  do  I  look  now  ?  " 

"Magnifi " 

"  You  lie,  you  rascal !  That's  one  of  the  fashionable 
dodges,  eh  ?  I  look  like  a  thunderin'  old  jackass,  that  ought 
to  be  sent  up,  and  fed  on  porridge  the  rest  of  his  life ! 
I  say  I  look  like  a  blasted  old  hunker !  You  know  I 
do !  and  if  you  don't  tell  me  the  truth,  I'll  break  every 
bone  in  your  hide,  you  cheeky  scoundrel !  What  do  I  look 
like,  I  say?" 

« I  —  I  —  don't  know  —  I " 

"  Here,  here's  another  guinea !  Now  what  do  I  look 
like?" 

"  Like  a  sensible  man " 

"You  lie,  you  villain!  I'll  take  every  blessed' guinea 
away  from  you,  if  you  don't  tell  the  truth !  " 

"  Well,  you  won't  hear  me  out.  I  say  you  look  like  a 
sensible  man,  that  came  within  an  inch  of  makin'  a  precious 
noodle  of  himself." 

"  That's  it !     Youll  do  !     You'll  rise  in  your  perfession  ! 


HAGAR     THK     MARTYR.  295 

Now  just  hand  me  over  them  ere  old  clothes  I  gin  you  this 
mornin',  and  take  these  fly  traps  in  exchange ;  and  if  ever 
any  body  catches  me  up  to  this  dodge  again,  they  may  say 
as  how  old  Job  Thornton  hasn't  got  sense  enough  to  go  to 
bed  when  it's  dark  ! " 

It  didn't  take  long  to  effect  the  change  in  uncle  Job's 
costume  ;  and,  for  once,  he  seemed  fully  to  appreciate  the 
comfort  of  his  former  suit. 

"  Now,  this  is  what  I  call  easy,"  he  said,  turning  round 
and  round,  and  working  his  limbs  in  a  strange  manner. 

"  Why,  would  you  believe  it,  Bill,  when  I  had  on  them 
other  gimcracks,  I  felt  afraid  to  move  about  leastwise  I  had 
busted,  or  should  bust  through  somewhere  as  wouldn't  be 
delicate  to  mention.  Why,  they  pinched  like  the  old  Harry ! 
Now,  these  wouldn't  be  hired  to  play  any  such  tricks  upon 
travellers.  Now,  then,  this  over,  let's  have  a  bottle  of  the 
best  Otard,  and  then  we'll  straighten  things." 

Uncle  Job  Thornton  sat  and  drank,  and  drank  and 
thought.  The  sun  drooped  down  through  a  wreath  of 
autumn  clouds,  and  his  last  smile  flickered  in  a  thousand 
sparkles  upon  the  homes  lying  all  around  him.  The  gold 
en  ripples  glided  up  and  down  the  steeples  of  the  churches, 
and  drifted  backward  and  forward  upon  the  glittering  house 
tops.  He  sat  and  drank,  and  drank  and  thought,  till  the 
darkness  lay  on  the  earth  like  a  curtain ;  till  the  stars  came 
out  in  troops  upon  the  blue  sky ;  till  the  moon  lay  looking 
at  him  with  her  calm,  quiet  glance  ;  till  the  noises  had  all 
died  out  of  city  life.  Sometimes  there  were  dreams,  — 


296  II  A  G  A  R      THE      MARTYR. 

sweet,  confused  dreams,  —  from  which  he  awoke  with  sor 
row  ;  for  the  angel  of  them  all  was  a  fair,  bright  girl,  who 
whispered  ever  and  anon,  "  I  do  like  you,  uncle  Job ! " 
And  so  he  sat,  and  thought,  and  dreamed,  till  the  moon, 
tired  of  gazing  at  him,  had  moved  on,  and  was  gone ;  till 
the  weary-eyed  stars  had  blinked  their  last  blink  ;  till  the 
broad  sun  lay  warm  and  golden  upon  his  silver  hair. x 

With  a  quick  start  he  awoke  just  in  time,  as  lie  thought, 
to  see  the  trailing  of  white  garments  going  out  at  the  door, 
and  the  murmured  sound,  "  I  do  love  you,  uncle  Job ;  I  do 
love  you ! "  And  while  he  dreamed  in  his  chair  by  the 
window,  a  fair,  bright  head,  nestled  down  among  its  mass  of 
curls,  was  brimming  over  with  visions  and  fancies  almost  as 
wild  as  uncle  Job's  had  been.  With  her  it  was,  "  Poor 
sissy,  what  a  pity  she  died ! "  with  him  it  was,  "  I  do  like 
you,  uncle  Job  ;  I  do  like  you." 

If  I  could  only  follow  up  those  dreams  till  they  ended  in 
reality ;  if  I  could  only  describe  how  he  watched  her  day 
by  day,  patient,  loving,  and  always  gentle  to  her  consump 
tive  brother ;  how  she  grew  step  by  step  to  do  more  than 
like  the  honest  old  man  who  was  so  considerate  for  her, 
so.  anxious  to  serve  her ;  how  he  brought  himself  to  think 
that  in  her  God  had  sent  him  his  darling  sissy  out  of 
heaven ;  how  she,  young  as  she  was,  became  his  instruc 
tress  ;  how  he  improved  under  her  care- ;  how  she  stood 
between  him  and  ridicule,  in  the  circles  where  they  were 
wont  to  meet ;  and  how,  in  the  end,  she  stood  with  lu'm  at 
the  altar,  a  gentle  bride,  prouder  of  the  gray  hairs  of  her 


HAGAR     THE      MARTYR.  297 

noble  husband  than  ever  she  could  have  been  of  one  whose 
youth  had  less  need  of  her !  But  there  are  few  pens  in  the 
world  that  could  do  justice  to  this  course  of  true  love,  which 
did  run  smooth.  There  was  no  one  to  oppose  her,  even 
had  it  not,  in  a  worldly  point  of  view,  been  considered  a 
good  match,  which  it  was.  Descended  from  a  family  of 
unmistakable  aristocracy,  the  lack  of  positive  wealth  had 
been  no  drawback.  Until  her  singular  infatuation  for  the 
mesmerist  Lawrence,  her  cousin  had  devoted  herself  to  her 
invalid  brother,  and  she  had  been  their  attendant.  There 
might  have  been  a  selfish  point  in  the  early  portion  of  her 
intimacy  with  uncle  Job,  —  the  desire  to  make  a  home  for 
her  brother,  —  but  if  that  had  been  the  early  inducement, 
long  enough  before  the  marriage  was  consummated  it  had 
merged  into  grateful  affection  for  the  man  who  cared  for 
every  breath  she  drew,  and  who,  to  use  his  homely  idiom, 
loved  the  ground  she  walked  on. 

There  were  wise  people  to  shake  their  heads  and  predict 
a  future  of  misery  and  discontent ;  but  she  only  laughed  at 
the  prediction,  and  clung  the  more  fondly  to  her  good  old 
man.  Her  home  was  the  picture  of  comfort.  Refinement 
and  elegance  were  visible  on  all  sides,  while  uncle  Job 
could  not  be  grateful  enough  for  the  windfall  of  fortune 
which  enabled  him  to  gratify  her  every  desire.  If  ever 
it  came  into  his  head  that  a  younger  or  a  more  comely  man 
would  better  correspond  with  the  homestead  and  its  pretty 
wife,  he  discarded  it  upon  the  instant,  as  being  an  insult 
to  her. 


298  HAGAR     THE     MARTYR. 

"  Why,  she  might  have  married  enermost  the  king  on 
his  throne,  if  she  had  liked.  She  needn't  have  married 
me  ;  and  she  wouldn't  if  she  hadn't  seen  somethin'  in  me 
worth  while.  I  deserve  to  have  my  head  punched  in  tryin' 
to  think  it  possible  that  ours  wasn't  a  tip-top  love  match." 

This  was  always  his  argument,  when  any  thing  like  doubt 
arose  in  his'  mind  as  to  her  sincerity.  The  gossips  might 
watch  her  every  turn,  might  twist  and  distort  every  circum 
stance  of  her  life  to  suit  their  views,  but  with  all  their 
sagacity,  the  clear,  open,  happy  disposition  of  Mrs.  Thorn 
ton  completely  balked  their  designs.  There  was  no  guile 
in  that  sunny  face  ;  there  was  no  deception  in  those  radiant 
eyes,  and  nothing  but  purity,  gentleness,  and  angelic  good 
ness  in  the  character  which  was  daily  developing  some 
fresh  trait  of  excellence.  The  poor  had  in  her  a  constant 
friend.  Like  her  husband,  she  chose  rather  to  believe  too 
much  than  too  little ;  and  although  there  were,  as  there 
always  will  be,  instances  in  which  their  bounty  was  abused, 
as  a  general  rule  their  charities  brought  them  in  tenfold  in 
the  barter  of  money  for  gratitude.  While  occasionally 
mingling  in  the  pastimes  of  their  circle,  the  larger  half  of 
their  time  was  devoted  to  the  promotion  of  usefulness. 
About  twenty  times  a  day  old  Job  would  say  to  himself, 
"If  there  ever  was  an  angel  on  the  earth,  that  there  wife 
of  mine  is  one  ; "  in  which  belief  all  who  had  the  pleasure 
of  her  acquaintance  cordially  assented. 


CHAPTER    XXIX. 

THE  FOILED  INTKIGANT.  —  MOTHER  AND   DAUGHTEB. 

"  What  is  love  but  another  word  for  pain — 
For  an  aching  heart  and  throbbing  brain  ? 
What  is  love  but  another  word  for  tears  — 
For  the  death  of  hope  —  for  tumultuous  fears  ? 
'Tis  a  fragile  bark  on  life's  troubled  sea, 
To  be  wrecked  by  its  false  intensity." 

A  DAY  of  unusual  brilliancy  had  gone  down  upon  a  night 
of  storm  and  darkness.  The  sleet  and  rain  chased  each 
other  over  the  hill  tops  and  around  the  corners  of  the 
streets  —  sometimes  running  against  hurrying  pedestrians, 
and  in  their  haste  bearing  away  with  them  luckless  um 
brellas,  hats,  caps,  et  id  genus  omne  —  sometimes  leaping 
down  chimneys  with  a  rush  which  sent  the  smouldering 
embers  whirling  about  the  room.  The  awnings  creaked 
and  groaned  in  their  affrighted  loneliness,  while  the  clashing 
blinds  and  the  rattling  windows  suggested  all  that  such  a 
night  would  suggest  of  discomfort. 

And  discomfort  there  was,  perhaps,  if  the  city  could 
have  been  unroofed,  in  every  dwelling  wherein  the  spirit  of 
the  storm  strove  for  admittance.  And  discomfort  there  cer 
tainly  was  in  the  dwelling  of  the  superb  and  fortunate  mil- 
lionnaire,  Mr.  Welman.  From  the  grand  assembly,  where 

(290) 


300  HAGAB     THE     MARTYR. 

she  had  shone  in  all  her  regal  beauty,  the  envied  of  a 
thousand  hearts,  Anna  McVernon  had  returned  to  droop 
down  in  all  her  finery,  a  statue  of  misery  and  despair. 
There  she  lay,  as  if  every  nerve  was  prostrate,  that  regal 
woman,  who,  only  an  hour  before,  had  turned  the  heads 
and  hearts  of  a  crowd  of  followers.  Flowers,  crushed  and 
broken,  were  matted  in  among  her  long  curls,  sending  out  a 
faint  perfume  —  a  dying  moan,  as  it  were,  that  they  should 
thus  have  served  the  purpose  of  a  woman's  vanity,  to  fall  a 
victim  to  a  woman's  woe.  Jewels  flung  out  their  radiant 
gleams  from  folds  of  brocade,  and  clasped,  as  if  in  mockery, 
the  round,  white  arms,  which  were  folded  above  the  head 
of  her  who  lay  crushed,  moaning,  and  despairing,  mingling 
her  wail  with  the  storm  cry  that  assailed  her  dwelling. 
"Were  there  thoughts  there  of  the  hearts  she  had  broken  ?  — 
were  there  memories  of  the  miseries  and  despairs  that 
she  had  created  ?  Alas !  no.  Her  own  grief,  her  own 
sorrow,  and  her  own  despair  had  shut  her  senses  from 
all  external  things.  Her  demon  projects  were  failing 
her  when  she  thought  them  most  secure.  She  had  seen 
Hagar,  in  her  quiet  insanity,  unlinking  knot  after  knot  of 
her  tying;  she  had  seen  her  restored,  not  alone  to  reason,  but 
to  the  affection  of  her  beloved ;  she  had  seen  her  that  very 
evening,  radiant  with  happiness,  leaning  on  the  arm  which 
she  had  sworn  to  secure ;  she  had  seen  it  all,  calm,  seem- 
ingly  joyous  and  rejoicing,  till  the  mockery  of  the  ball  was 
over.  Her  kugh  was  loudest  at  the  door  of  the  hall,  and 
was  heard  even  amid  the  murmurings  of  the  crashing 


. 

HA  GAR     THE      MARTYR.  301 

storm,  as  the  superb  carriage,  into  which  she  had  been  lit 
erally  borne  by  her  admiring  followers,  wheeled  away,  and 
sped  along  into  the  sombre  darkness.  At  her  own  door, 
even,  her  calmness  remained  to  support  her.  Giving  some 
slight  command  to  the  servant,  she  sprang  lightly  up  the  mar 
ble  steps  —  up  the  tufted  stairs — into  her  own  solitary  room. 
A  large  astral  lamp  filled  the  chamber  with  lustre,  for  Anna 
was  a  connoisseur  of  grandeur,  and  loved  brilliant  surround 
ings  ever  around  her.  After  closing  the  door,  she  stood  for 
a  moment  gazing  upon  her  dark  prototype  in  the  pier-glass. 
Dark,  and  regal,  and  splendid  were  the  face  and  form  which 
her  mirror  reproduced.  Could  it  be  possible  that  she  could 
love  in  vain  ?  Could  it  be  possible  that  a  heart  cased  in 
gorgeous  beauty  could  throb  and  ache  with  the  misery  of 
unrequited  affection  ? 

How  the  wind  howled  and  the  rain  pattered  against  the 
windows  of  that  splendid  abode  of  sorrow  !  How  the  storm 
shrieked  and  clattered  for  entrance,  as  if  to  answer  the 
meanings  of  the  stricken  woman ! 

How  long  she  lay  moaning  upon  the  soft  lounge  it  was 
impossible  to  say.  Its  very  softness  and  sense  of  rest  an 
noyed  her.  Her  sobs  must  have  penetrated  beyond  her 
own  locality,  for  very  shortly  a  side  door,  communicating 
with  her  mother's,  opened,  and  Mrs.  Welman  stood  haugh 
tily  in  its  frame. 

"  Anna  !  " 

"Mother!" 

In  both  exclamations  there  was  a  haughty  defiance  —  a 
26 


302  HAGAB     THE     MARTYR. 

superb  indifference,  and  reckless  carelessness  of  what  might 
follow.  Anna  had  risen  upon  her  elbow,  while  the  snake, 
which  wound  its  coil  around  her  arm  in  the  form  of  a  brace 
let,  seemed  to  undulate  and  emit  sparks  of  rage  and  hatred. 
Her  long  black  hair  escaped  from  its  bondage,  and,  with 
broken  flowers  clinging  here  and  there  amid  its  blackness, 
it  swept  over  her  shoulders,  over  her  disordered  dress,  and 
lay  in  inky  quivers  upon,  the  carpet  by  her  side.  Every 
motion  of  her  arm  sent  the  scales  of  the  serpent  into  spar 
kling  contortions  horrible  to  contemplate.  The  same  style 
of  ornament  had  bound  her  hair,  and  in  its  escape  seemed 
crawling  down  the  long  curls  to  hide  itself  from  danger. 

"  Anna !  "  again  broke  forth  the  mother,  gliding  along 
the  floor  to  lay  her  hand  heavily  upon  the  bared  and  pol 
ished  shoulder.  "  "Where  is  your  womanhood  ?  " 

"  Gone  !  —  lost !  —  bartered  forever  and  forever !  You 
are  my  mother.  You  have  taught  me,  led  me,  forced  me, 
and  here  is  the  wreck  of  my  womanhood." 

The  miserable  woman  had  shaken  off  her  mother's  hand, 
and  now  stood  recklessly  defiant,  in  the  full  glare  of  the 
lamp. 

"  This  to  me  —  to  me,  Anna ! " 

"  Mother,  it  is  tune  we  understood  each  other.  It  was 
time  for  that  years  ago.  We  should  have  done  it,  before, 
in  your  school,  I  had  unlearned  all  that  nature,  innocence, 
and  purity  taught  me ;  we  should  have  come  to  an  expla 
nation  before  my  whole  nature  was  black  and  putrid  with 
deformity." 


HAGAR      THE     MARTYR.  303 

"  I  will  not  say  you  are  mad,  Anna.  I  will  leave  you  to 
your  own  thoughts.  Perhaps  to-morrow " 

"  No,  mother  !  not  to-morrow,  but  to-night !  I  have  been 
an  obedient  daughter  to  you  ;  have  I  not  ?  "When  you  saw 
me  as  a  girl,  stooping  to  what  you  thought  an  unequal  love, 
you  said,  '  Be  a  woman  ! '  You  inoculated  me  with  pride  — 
with  vanity  —  with  self-esteem.  You  taught  me  that  only 
knowledge  was  power  —  that  only  evil  existed  where  it 
was  palpable  —  that  only  position  could  be  made  an  avail 
able  weapon  in  the  battle  of  life.  There  was  a  time  when 
I  could  have  married  the  man  of  my  choice,  and  have 
been  happy.  You  treated  the  subject  with  scorn,  and  com 
bated  it  with  a  wealthy  suitor.  That  suitor  became  my 
husband !  Did  you,  for  one  moment,  believe  I  loved  that 
man  ?  Did  you  care  whether  I  did  or  not  ?  Did  you  care 
if  the  next  hour  found  me  pillowed  in  the  arms  of  a  crimi 
nal  passion,  so  the  world  saw  it  not  ?  " 

"  These  are  strong  accusations  to  bring  against  your 
mother,  Anna." 

"  Strong,  but  true  !  My  life  has  been  a  lie  from  the  be 
ginning  to  the  end  of  it,  and  you  know  it  There  is  nothing 
that  ever  lived  so  utterly  false  —  so  utterly  saturated  with 
degradation  —  as  myself.  False  to  my  nature  —  false  to  my 
friends  —  false  to  my  husband." 

"  Anna  —  Anna !  You  do  not  know  of  what  you  accuse 
yourself." 

"  Are  there  no  crimes  but  the  actual,  mother  ?  Is  im 
agination  nothing  ?  Is  desire  —  will,  nothing  ?  It  matters 


801  HAG  AH     THE     MARTYR. 

little  now,  mother.  Time  was  when  the  mistake  of  sup 
posing  only  happiness  could  arise  from  position  might  have 
been  rectified ;  but  it  is  too  late  now,  mother  —  too  late  — 
too  late ! " 

Anna  had  lain  down  again  with  her  face  half  buried  in 
the  pillows,  while  the  serpent  tangled  itself  among  her 
curls,  and  seemed  ready  to  spring  out  upon  the  self-con 
victed  mother. 

"  Can  I  help  you  to  redeem  what  you  have  lost  in  that — 
that  —  man  ?  " 

"  Something  must  be  done  —  I  care  not  what !  He  has 
owned  my  influence  —  he  shall  again.  She  must  be  dis 
graced.  He  must  be  separated  from  her.  It  is  too  late 
now  to  stop  at  means.  There  have  been  times  when  I 
might  have  felt  humbled  down  to  own  to  you  how  entirely 
he  has  brought  me  to  worship  him.  Those  times  are  past, 
with  much  else  that  should  never  have  been.  I  have  tried 
*  to  be  a  woman,'  and  have  made  a  failure  of  it  —  a  magnif 
icent  failure,  hidden  from  the  knowledge  of  all  but  myself 
and  that  I  own  it  to  you  now,  is  because  I  demand  that  you 
should  help  me  in  breaking  the  tie  that  binds  him  to  Hagar 
Only  one  thing  can  do  it  —  her  disgrace  !  Drive  her  from 
society,  and  you  drive  her  from  him.  In  the  first  place, 
she  would  not  suffer  him  to  share  in  her  downfall ;  in  the 
next,  he  is  too  sensitive  to  stand  alone  hi  her  defence." 

"  But  her  position  is  too  firm  now  easily  to  be  shaken. 
Her  only  misfortune  is  an  understood  thing  in  society,  and 
yet  she  has  its  recognition." 


HAGAK      THE      MARTTK.  305 

"  Because  it  is  an  understood  thing.  Rake  it  up  —  blow 
it  into  life  —  discuss  it  as  something  but  now  having  reached 
your  ears  —  that  is  the  part  I  would  have  you  play ;  while 
my  passive  silence  shall  convince  him  that  I  am  not  the 
instrument  of  her  disgrace.  If  you  recede  from  her,  lead 
ing  the  fashion  as  you  do,  there  is  not  one  person  out  of  ten 
that  will  dare  uphold  her." 

"  This  it  is  to  have  daughters  ! " 

"  This  it  is  to  have  mothers  who  teach  their  children 
every  thing  but  what  they  most  need  to  learn  !  If  you  had 
taught  me  to  pay  that  deference  to  worth  which  you  have 
to  wealth,  this  horrible  episode  never  would  have  marred 
my  existence." 

More  bitter  tears,  more  anguished  sobs,  and  the  morning 
sun,  all  the  brighter  for  the  night's  storm,  crossed  the  still 
burning  lamp,  and  fell  upon  the  swollen  eyes  and  flushed 
cheeks  of  Anna  McVernon. 

Mrs.  Welman  had  retired  to  her  chamber,  but  not  to 
sleep.  There  had  been  too  much  truth  in  Anna's  ravings 
not  to  disturb  the  calmness  which  usually  reigned  in  her 
bosom.  She  would  gladly  have  escaped  the  alternative ; 
but  Anna's  happiness  demanded  it,  and  that  decided  her. 
Perhaps  the  knowledge  that  at  the  feet  of  her  deleterious 
system  of  education  lay  the  evil  which  had  resulted,  and 
was  still  likely  to  result  therefrom,  aided  her  desire  'to  see 
her  child  once  more  free  and  happy.  Disgrace  Hagar  Mar 
tin!  All  the  long  hours  it  rang  like  a  doom  upon  her 
brain,  which  not  even  the  languor  of  sleep  could  overcome. 
26* 


300  HAGAR      1'HK      MARTYR. 

It  echoed  in  the  shivering  storm,  and  in  the  pitiless  wind. 
Disgrace  Hagar  Martin !  Fall  gently  shadows  upon  the 
closed  eyes  of  the  happy  sleeper,  for  the  short  season  of 
peace  which  fortune  has  allotted  thee  will  soon  melt  away 
into  suffering  and  dismay. 


CHAPTER    XXX. 

THE  DISAPPOINTED  OLD  MAID.  —  THE  OLD  MAN'S  DARLING. 

AMONG  the  most  bitter  and  sarcastic  of  all  the  bitter 
and  sarcastic  persons  who  reviled  the  marriage  of  uncle 
Job  Thornton  with  the  youthful  Genevieve  Conant  was 
Miss  Margaretta  Pinchin,  the  fashionable  keeper  of  the 
fashionable  boarding  house.  I  don't  say  she  had  any  posi 
tive  designs  upon  him.  To  be  sure  he  had  been  her  most 
profitable  boarder  for  the  six  months  following  his  return 
from  California.  His  room  was  the  pleasantest  in  the 
house,  his  wardrobe  always  in  good  repair  —  his  appetite 
was  consulted  every  day  before  the  regular  market-house 
visit  —  if  he  wanted  pork  nobody  else  had  chicken,  and  if 
he  wanted  chicken  nobody  else  had  pork  —  his  cup  of  coffee 
was  the  first  to  be  poured  from  the  shining  urn.  The  bath 
was  saved  till  positive  information  was  obtained  from  uncle 
Job  that  he  could  dispense  with  it.  It 'was,  "Ask  Mr. 
Thornton,"  and  "  If  Mr.  Thornton  desires  it,"  and  "  Just  as 
Mr.  Thornton  pleases,"  from  morning  till  night.  In  fact  it 
had  become  rather  a  standing  joke  among  the  boarders,  that 
Mr.  Thornton  ruled  the  roost ;  while  he,  good  simple  soul, 
saw  only  a  kindliness  of  feeling  which  he  flattered  himself 
was  extended  to  all  the  establishment  alike.  Had  he  im- 

(307) 


308  HAGAR     THE     MARTYR. 

agined  that  there  were  any  designs  upon  his  liberty  in  that 
quarter,  any  man  traps  concealed  beneath  the  roses  of  good 
humor,  he  would  have  been  the  first  to  beat  a  retreat  from 
the  dangerous  premises. 

It  was  with  very  fierce  eyes  and  a  very  bitter  heart  that 
Miss  Margaretta  looked  on  the  manoeuvres  of  "  that  artful 
little  minx,"  as  she  called  Genevieve,  and  with  a  very  praise 
worthy  view  of  saving  him  from  the  clutches  of  a  designing 
girl,  that  she  redoubled  her  exertions  to  make  him  in  love 
with  his  present  quarters,  and  unwilling  to  change.  HOAV 
her  head  throbbed  and  leaped  when  he  nudged  her  arm  and 
winked  in  his  old  awkward  way  for  her  to  follow  him  into 
the  library ! 

"  I  want  to  consult  on  a  matter  as  requires  a  previous  deal 
of  judgment,"  he  whispered,  as  she  passed  him  in  going  out. 

He  wanted  to  consult  her ;  and  upon  what  other  subject 
could  he  possibly  require  her  judgment?  After  all  that 
had  passed,  he  never  could  have  the  face  to  mention  any 
other  person  to  her  as  his  intended.  No,  indeed!  The 
time  had  come  for  which  she  had  hoped  so  long — the  fish 
was  caught  for  which  she  had  angled  with  all  sorts  of  bait 
—  Miss  Margaretta  would  be  Miss  Margaretta  no  longer. 
With  a  step  springy  as  a  girl's,  she  started  to  obey  his  re 
quest.  Womanlike,  she  gave  one  look  at  her  mirror,  settled 
her  cap  into  more  becoming  form,  and  tucked  away  a  lock 
of  sprinkled  hair,  which  had  crept  out  from  under  her  false 
front. 

"  I'll  not  give  in  too  soon,"  thought  the  venerable  spinster. 


HAGAB     THE     MABTYB.  309 

u  He  shall  not  find  me  too  easily  purchased.  Let  me  see  — 
shall  I  go  in  sort  of  abashed,  as  if  I  knew  he  was  about  to 
propose  ;  or  pretend  that  I've  no  suspicion  of  his  intentions 
in  that  regard  ?  I'll  take  the  chances  —  follow  his  suit  — - 
that  will  be  the  safest  way.  Ah,  ha !  I  wonder  which  side 
of  the  mouth  people  will  laugh  from  now ; "  and  in  imagi 
nation  she  had  already  cut  some  of  her  acquaintances  who 
had  presumed  to  joke  her  upon  her  predilections  for  the 
bachelor. 

"  Miss  Genevieve  shall  keep  her  distance ;  but  I've  deter 
mined  !  I  know  what  men  are  too  well  to  throw  temptation 
in  their  way ;  and  she  would  wheedle  a  saint  with  her  airs 
and  her  make  believes." 

On  entering  the  room  she  found  uncle  Job  restlessly  look 
ing  out  at  the  window. 

"That's  the  ticket,"  said  he,  presenting  a  chair  for 
the  pleasure  of  his  guest,  while  she  inwardly  owned  that, 
once  married,  she  would  break  him  of  such  vulgar  expres 
sions. 

Although  trying  to  seem  at  his  ease,  it  was  some  time  be 
fore  he  could  fairly  launch  out  upon  the  subject  for  which 
he  desired  her  presence. 

"  You  know  from  experience,"  he  began,  patting  his  left 
knee,  and  disturbing  with  his  pocket  handkerchief  the  do 
mestic  arrangements  of  a  family  of  flies  who  were  domi 
ciled  on  the  table  where  the  sugar  bowl  had  been.  "  You 
know  from  your  own  experience  what  a  lonely,  half-way 
sort  of  a  life  this  livin'  alone  is." 


310  HAGAB     THE      MARTYR. 

Miss  Pinchin  proceeded  to  know  immediately,  and  of 
course  shook  her  .head  and  sighed. 

"  Now,  I  am  not  much  of  an  argufier ;  but  I  believe  when 
God  said, '  It  is  not  good  for  man  to  be  alone,'  he  meant  it  — 
and  furthermore,  that  a  man  livin'  till  my  time  without 
doin'  somethin'  for  his  country  can't  begin  too  soon  to 
make  up  his  mind  in  that  there  regard."  To  all  of  which 
Miss  Pinchin  replied  by  a  sigh,  and  a  blush  of  conscious 
acquiescence. 

"Now,  from  what  you  know  of  me,  Miss  Pinchin,"  — 
here  he  took  her  hand  within  his  own,  which  she  modestly 
withdrew,  although  it  was  an  old  way  he  had  of  emphatic 
argument, 

"From  what  you  know  of  me,  I  think  you'll  say  a 
woman  who  didn't  expect  too  much  of  her  husband,  and 
was  willing  to  allow  for  short  comin's  in  case  there  should 
be  any,  might  get  along  pretty  snugly  —  in  fact,  Miss 
Pinchin,  might  do  worse  than  to  hitch  on  to  an  old  feller 
like  me." 

Miss  Pinchin,  feeling  that  she  was  expected  to  make  a 
speech,  hemmed  and  coughed,  and  finally  got  as  far  as  "  Mr. 
Thornton." 

Here  she  stuck  dead,  and  as  there  was  no  prompter,  un 
cle  Job  kindly  came  to  her  aid. 

"  I  know  what  you  are,  Miss  Pinchin,  and  if  you  really 
thought  '  no,'  you  could  not  but  help  say  yes.  I've  had 
reason  to  say  that  your  name  stands  for  kindness,  and  good- 


HAGAR      THE     MARTYR.  811 

ness,  and  sensibleness,  and  so  I  come  straight  to  you  at  once ; 
before  —  before " 

Here  old  Job  floundered. 

"  I  thought  it  was  best,"  he  went  on  almost  immediately, 
"  to  make  a  clean  breast  of  it  to  you,  and,  if  you  approved, 
to  do  the  chore  right  up  —  parson,  bridecake,  and  all  — 
you  understand." 

Miss  Pinchin  did  understand,  or  fondly  imagined  she  did, 
as  a  firmer  compression  of  the  mouth,  and  a  keener  flash 
ing  of  the  gray  eyes,  attested. 

"  Now,  am  I  right  or  am  I  not  right  ?  " 

"  Right,  I  think,  Mr.  Thornton.  With  you,  I  believe  we 
have  a  mission  upon  the  earth  which  extends  to  the  more 
than  living  for  self!  " 

"  I'm  certain  of  it !  To  be  sure  marriage  is  a  thing 
which  shouldn't  be  did  without  proper  reflection.  It  is  an 
easy  knot  to  tie,  but,  as  the  sayin'  is,  it  takes  more  than 
teeth  to  untie  it.  And  as  for  some  of  the  wives  I've  seen, 
I'd  sooner  go  into  the  cage  with  a  lion,  and  put  my  head  in 
his  mouth,  knowing  for  certain  he'd  bite  it  off,  than  get  be 
devilled  up  into  a  snare  with  any  of  their  kidney.  But 
when  people  affectionate  each  other,  there  is  kindliness  on 
both  sides,  and  forbearance  on  both  sides,  and  happiness  on 
•both  sides.  That's  the  kind  of  marriage  state  I  hope  to 
enter.  Now,  tell  me  candidly  and  truly,  what  you  think  of 
it  ?  "  Uncle  Job,  in  his  eagerness,  had  again-  secured  the 
venerable  spinster's  hand. 

"  Since  you  have  been  so  open  and  frank  with  me,  it's 


312  HAG  AH     THE     MARTYR. 

only  fair  that  I  should  deal  as  candidly  with  you.  To  say 
that  it  is  unexpected  to  me,  is  only  what  you  may  pre 
mise  ! " 

"  Of  course  —  of  course  —  I  haven't  given  the  subject 
more'n  a  century's  thought ! " 

"  You  have  been  one  of  the  family,  as  one  might  say,  so 
long,  that  I  think  I  know  all  your  wants  and  necessaries ; 
and  if  I  have  tried  to  meet  them  when  you  were  nothing 
but  a  boarder,  like  the  rest  of  my  establishment,  as  a  wife, 
I  should  be  still  more  anxious  to  contribute  to  your  com 
fort." 

Here  Miss  Pinchin  pressed  the  hand  which  had  held  her 
own,  and  tried  to  look  sentimental. 

"I  —  I  —  beg  your  pardon,  Miss  Pinchin  !  I  hope  I've 
not  made  a  meddle  of  what  I  intended  to  say ;  I  hope  I've 
made  it  clearer  than  I'm  afraid  I  have." 

"  Had  I  been  foolishly  young  and  sentimental,  I  might 
have  affected  not  to  understand  you ;  but  when  a  woman 
verges  towards  thirty,  (she  had  been  towards  thirty  for  fifteen 
years  at  least,)  sentiment  becomes  sense ;  therefore  I  say 
again,  that  as  your  wife " 

"  Miss  Pinchin  !  "  exclaimed  uncle  Job,  bounding  from 
his  chair,  "  do  you  mean  to  say  that  you  have  imagined  me 
proposin'  to  you  all  this  time  ?  " 

"  Certainly,  Mr.  Thornton  —  why  not  ?  " 

"  Why  not !  Because  I'm  not  a  fool,  Miss  Pinchin ;  that's 
why  not !  and  because  you  are  old  enough  to  be  my  wife's 
grandmother,  Miss  Pinchin ;  that's  why  not !  and  because, 


HAGAR     THE     MARTYR.  313 

when  I  want  a  Molly  Coddle,  I'll  hire  a  nurse,  Miss  Pin- 
chin  ;  that's  why  not !  " 

"Sir!" 

"  I  can't  help  it ;  I'm  up !  and  when  I'm  up  there's  no 
controllin'  of  me.  To  think  that  you  could  be  stupid  and 
ridiculous  enough  to  think  I  meant  you  !  I'm  sorry  if  I'm 
onmanly,  Miss  Pinchin,  but  I  know  as  well  as  you  do  that 
there's  no  love  lost  on  either  side;  that  you  would  have 
married  my  mopusses,  and  not  me ;  and  that  you  would 
have  led  me  by  the  nose  like  a  caged  babboon,  Miss  Pin- 
chin,  allowin'  it  had  been  you,  which  it  wasn't.  I  hope  you'll 
forgive  me  for  speakin'  plain.  I  thought  that  was  what  I 
was  doin'  all  the  time ;  but  as  you  didn't  understand  the 
aforesaid  talk,  it  is  necessary  to  be  plain  now,  that  there 
may  be  no  more  mistakes." 

"And  may  I  ask  who  is  the  happy  bride,  Mr.  Thornton?" 

"  Certain,  certain.  Miss  Genevieve — pretty  little  Genny 
Colten." 

"I  trust  you  may  be  happy,  Mr.  Thornton.  Let  the 
mistake  pass  as  if  it  had  never  occurred.  I  trust  she  will 
make  you  the  good  wife  you  deserve.  You  have  said  some 
severe  things,  but  I  forgive  them ;  and  if  ever  it  lies  in 
my  power  to  serve  you,  command  me."  A  great  tear  glit 
tered  in  the  spinster's  hard  eyes,  and,  rolling  down  over 
her  nose,  dashed  itself  to  pieces  on  the  table  before  her. 

"  O,  come  now,  none  of  that ;  I'm  really  sorry  I  said  any 
thing  about  it." 

"  It  is  better  as  it  is.  If  it  must  be,  I  could  hear  it  bet- 
27 


314  HAGAB     THE     MARTYR. 

ter  from  your  lips  than  from  those  of  any  one  else.  I  trust 
you  may  never  regret  your  choice ;  but  I  fear  it,  I  fear  it." 

With  an  ominous  shake  of  the  head,  Miss  Pinchiu  hur 
riedly  left  the  room,  uncle  Job  thought,  to  indulge  in  the 
feminine  luxury  of  a  good  cry ;  but  if  he  could  have 
peeped  in  upon  her  a  minute  after,  and  seen  with  what 
ferocious  hatred  she  ground  the  daguerreotype  she  had 
coaxed  from  him  under  her  foot,  the  twinges  of  conscience 
which  occasionally  stung  him  on  her  account  would  have 
grown  "small  by  degrees,  and  beautifully  less."  From 
that  period,  under  the  garb  of  friendship,  Miss  Pinchin 
became  the  inveterate  enemy  of  pretty  Genevieve. 

Newport  was  in  its  glory,  and,  of  course,  to  gratify  his 
young  wife,  uncle  Job  allowed  himself  to  be  borne  off  on 
the  whirlpool  of  fashion  which  set  towards  that  place.  Plad 
he  consulted  his  own  happiness,  he  would  have  selected 
some  quiet  spot,  unknown  to  fashion,  wherein  to  have 
evaded  the  city's  summer  heat.  But  Newport  was  the 
vote,  and  to  Newport  they  went.  The  jaded  old  hack 
horses  were  switching  their  tails  lazily  under  the  shadow 
of  the  elms  when  "  our  party  "  alighted,  amid  a  wilderness 
of  baggage,  at  the  door  of  the  "  Ocean  House."  The  bal 
cony  was  filled  with  young  men  indolently  smoking  their 
cigars,  to  whom  sensation  was  a  thing  unknown.  So  large 
a  party  could  not  help  attracting  their  attention,  particu 
larly  when  its  chief  elements  were  youthful  bloom  and 
beauty.  The  undisguised  admiration  which  followed  Gen 
evieve  greatly  annoyed  her  husband.  It  was  his  first  ad- 


HAGAB     THE     MARTYR.  315 

mixture  with  fashionable  condiments ;  and  the  long-levelled 
eye  glass,  the  bold  stare,  and  the  liberal  praises  bestowed 
upon  her  seemed  to  him  unbearable  impertinence ;  and  it 
was  only  the  sweet  unconsciousness  of  admiration  with 
which  she  met  the  adulation  of  the  crowd  that  saved  one 
or  two  of  the  most  forward  youths  a  journey  over  the  bal 
cony  into  the  long  grass.  Of  course  he  was  spotted  at 
once  as  a  victim  for  the  quizzical  powers  of  the  reigning 
set  at  the  hotel.  The  youth,  the  intellect,  and  the  beauty 
of  his  surroundings,  however,  soon  turned  the  scale  in  his 
favor ;  and  before  he  had  been  there  a  week,  an  introduc 
tion  to  Mr.  Thornton,  and  through  him  to  his  party,  wa3 
one  of  the  most  desirable  things  imaginable.  The  West 
erns,  no  longer  ashamed  of  the  relationship,  since  Mrs. 
Miles  Scammon  patronized  it,  were  his  stanchest  defend 
ers.  There  were  men  there,  few  and  far  between,  shining 
out  from  the  effeminate,  enervated  mass  like  diamonds  in  a 
circlet  of  paste,  to  whom  uncle  Job  adhered,  and  from 
whom  he  strove  to  fashion  his  own  ideas,  and  bring  into 
something  like  polished  form  the  strong  good  sense  which 
had  lain  perdu  under  its  crusting  of  ignorance.  At  first, 
the  bold,  free  manner  of  the  men  had  something  wrong  in 
it ;  but  when  he  saw  that  it  was  not  only  tolerated  but 
encouraged  by  the  women,  he  began  to  think  that  the 
wrong  lay  at  the  feet  of  fashion,  and  desired  more  than 
ever  to  withdraw  from  its  influence.  An  overpowering 
mania  for  notoriety  was  the  prevalent  disease  of  the  season 
of  which  I  write.  No  matter  how  vulgar  in  manners  or 


316  HAGAR     THE     MARTYR. 

position ;  if  the  word  notorious  could  be  tacked  to  a  title, 
that  was  enough  to  pass  the  magic  boundary  which  sepa 
rated  the  commonplace  from  the  fashionable.  Women 
dressed  for  notoriety,  talked  for  notoriety,  and  flirted  for 
notoriety.  To  be  followed  by  a  gaping  crowd,  to  hear  the 
musical  "  That's  she  —  there  she  goes  —  that's  the  cele 
brated  So-and-so,"  was  inducement  enough  to  make  any 
sacrifice  short  of  positive  crime.  This  is  no  libel  upon 
fashionable  society  at  crowded  temporary  resorts.  For 
many  years  I  have  been  a  constant  visitor  at  some  one  or 
other  of  our  fashionable  watering-places.  Having  neither 
wealth  nor  notoriety,  I  have  been  in  the  crowd,  but  not  of 
it,  and,  consequently,  have  had  no  ^limculty  in  achieving 
my  purpose  —  that  of  studying  the  different  phases  of  life. 
Under  the  influences  and  excitements  of  tonnish  life,  it  is 
impossible  that  society  should  retain  its  nerve  and  muscle 
of  independence.  This  evening,  Mrs.  Highflyer  is  the 
belle  of  the  hotel.  She  is  handsome,  brilliant,  intellectual, 
(as  times  go,)  and  gorgeously  dressed.  A  dozen  coxcombs 
follow  her  steps,  as  she  floats  up  and  down  the  hall,  too 
happy  if  only  to  catch  a  stray  glimpse  of  her  splendid 
eyes.  Now  and  then  such  exclamations  as  the  following 
reach  her  from  the  envious  wall  flowers,  upon  whcm  she 
curls  her  lip  in  ineffable  disdain :  — 

"  I  didn't  know  that  flirting  was  among  Mrs.  Highflyer's 
accomplishments;"  and  "  Her  husband  must  feel  gratified ;" 
while  Mrs.  Topnot,  who  was  the  star  of  last  evening's 
assemblage,  denounces  in  the  harshest  terms  the  shameless- 


HAGAB     THE     MARTYR. 

ness  with  which  married  women — meaning  Mrs.  Highflyer 
—  throw  out  their  lures  to  catch  soft-pated  young  men. 
From  that  moment  Mrs.  Topnot  and  Mrs.  Highflyer  are 
rivals  for  the  ridiculous  honor  of  belleship  !  If  Mrs.  High 
flyer  dresses  four  times  to-day,  Mrs.  Topnot  will  beat  her 
time  by  at  least  one  to-morrow.  If  Mrs.  Highflyer  wears 
her  dress  ridiculously  low  necked  to-day,  Mrs.  Topnot's 
plump  shoulders  will  glitter  at  least  an  inch  more  in  the 
sunlight  to-morrow.  If  Mrs.  Highflyer's  soft  glances  turn 
the  brains  of  softer  men  to-day,  Mrs.  Topnot  will  employ 
something  more  than  glances  to-morrow,  but  that  her  rival's 
followers  shall  remove  their  allegiance  to  her  shrine.  And 
so  they  go  on,  from  bad  to  worse,  until  their  own  purity  is 
questioned,  their  husbands'  name  compromised,  and  they 
further  from  happiness  than  ever.  I  have  always  ob 
served,  too,  that  the  fiercest  antagonisms  are  those  carried 
on  by  married  women.  Men  are  more  susceptible  to  their 
loves,  from  the  very  impossibility  which  hedges  them  round ; 
and  if  the  heart  is  sometimes  caught  in  the  rebound,  and 
if  the  happiness  of  a  lifetime  is  sometimes  the  forfeit,  at 
the  feet  of  fashion  must  be  laid  the  fearful  charge. 
27  » 


CHAPTER    XXXI. 

THE  WATERWITCH. 

"  She  was  a  creature  strange,  yet  fair, 

First  mournful  and  then  wild  — 
Now  laughing  on  the  clear  bright  air 

As  merry  as  a  child  — 
Then  melting  down  as  soft  as  even, 

Beneath  some  new  control, 
She'd  throw  her  hazel  eye  to  heaven 

And  sing  with  all  her  soul, 
In  tones  as  rich  as  some  young  bird's, 
Warbling  her  own  delightful  words  !  " 

MRS.  WELBT. 

SUCH  was  Genevieve  Thornton  as  child  and  woman. 
Strange  —  was  it  not  ?  —  that  she  should  have  laughed  all 
the  handsome  young  admirers  out  of  their  love,  and  taken 
to  her  pure  heart  the  honest  but  rough  adventurer  !  And 
yet  had  you  seen  her  flitting  around  from  object  to  object, 
remaining  at  any  one  thing  just  about  as  long  as  a  butterfly 
would  hover  round  a  rose,  you  would  have  said  at  once 
that  she  was  only  fitted  to  be  what  fate  had  made  her  — 
the  old  man's  darling.  Not  that  uncle  Job  was  so  terrifi 
cally  old,  either  ;  only  old  in  comparison  with  the  years  of 
his  child  wife.-  Forty  —  it  might  have  been  one  or  two  — 
three  was  the  utmost  stretch  of  years  that  the  most  illiberal 
planked  down  on  the  chessboard  of  curiosity.  Genevieve 

(318) 


HAGAR     THE     MARTYR.  319 

was  a  practical  little  body  with  all  her  childishness.  Such 
a  little  old  woman,  at  times,  with  her  ancient  ways ;  such  a 
substantial,  material,  every-day  wife,  that  the  pity  is  there 
are  not  more  after  her  pattern.  Romance  passed  her  by 
with  disdain  ;  one  look  at  her  husband  settled  that  question. 
No  one  would  have  looked,  had  they  only  her  childish  face 
for  an  interpreter,  for  such  a  mine  of  sense  and  discretion 
as  lay  perdu  under  those  little  winking  curls  of  hers. 
No  one  would  have  suspected  wisdom's  lurking-place  in 
that  exceedingly  old  head  on  young  shoulders ;  but  there  it 
was,  ready  for  action  on  any  case  of  emergency. 

If  I  were  to  say  that  she  really  enjoyed  herself  in  the 
turbulent,  excitable  routine  of  Newport's  fashionable  socie 
ty,  I  should  write  what  was  false.  She  did  not  see  the 
necessity  for  so  much  parade  —  to  dress  a  dozen  times  a 
day,  more  or  less,  would  have  given  her  the  fidgets,  as  she 
said  —  and  I  am  bound  to  record  her  words.  In  vain  the 
more  ambitious  members  of  the  party  would  urge  her  to 
follow  their  suit. 

"  I'll  have  my  clothes  all  out  where  every  body  can  see 
that  I've  got  them,"  she  would  say,  laughingly,  "  and  if  that 
won't  do,  I'll  give  my  maid  an  inventory,  and  have  it  pasted 
up  among  the  notices  at  the  office  door,  with  N.  B.  over  it." 
And  away  she  would  fly  to  uncle  Job  for  his  sanction,  some- 
tunes  in  her  eagerness  taking  half  his  chair,  to  the  immense 
danger  of  upsetting  his  highness ;  sometimes  helping  her 
self  to  one  or  more  of  his  knees,  but  always  with  successful 
termination  to  her  argument.  Please  herself,  and  she 


320  H  A  G  A  R      THE      MARTYR. 

would  please  uncle  Job.  He  didn't  want  her  dressed  up 
like  a  doll  for  every  body's  gazing,  and  then  again  he  didn't 
want  people  to  think  she  hadn't  as  much  flimflams  as  any 
other  body's  wife.  Uncle  Job  was  human  after  all.  If 
there  was  one  thing  more  than  another  that  Genevieve  did 
enjoy,  it  was  the  bathing.  And  the  old  Atlantic  seemed  to 
share  her  enjoyment,  and  do  his  best  to  make  her  in  love 
with  his  caressings.'  He  seemed  to  have  a  tone  and  a 
murmur  for  her  unlike  his  usual  thunderings. 

"  I  don't  know  whether  I  will  or  not,"  she  would  say 
sometimes,  when,  like  a  bird,  she  would  pause  for  a  moment 
listening  to  the  eternal  roar. 

"WillwAo*,  pet?" 

"  "Why,  don't  you  hear  the  ocean  ?  He's  coaxing  me  to 
come  and  have  a  frolic  with  him." 

And  I  half  believe  she  thought  what  she  said,  for  soon  as 
she  could  get  to  the  beach  after  these  impulses  she  was 
sure  to  be  there  ;  and  then  such  a  game  of  romp  as  there 
was  !  Her  little,  naked  feet  upon  the  sand  must  have  been 
the  funniest  things  in  the  world,  —  by  the  way,  uncle  Job 
laughed  at  them,  —  and  how  daintily  they  pattered  down 
into  the  water !  putting  to  shame  the  crested  foam  which 
drifted  on  to  kiss  them  !  And  how  they  shout,  one  against 
the  other,  the  waves  and  their  pet !  The  waves  have  the 
best  of  it,  inasmuch  as  they  have  never  ceased  their  shout 
ing  since  the  world  began.  Far  away  comes  rolling  in  a 
troop  of  waves.  Genevieve  plants  her  feet  ready  for  the 
attack.  The  leader,  in  his  hurry  to  embrace  her,  runs 


HAGAR     THE     MARTYR.  321 

himself  all  to  pieces,  explodes  with  a  disappointed  cry,  and 
silvers  her  shoulder  with  his  sparkling  ruins.  Hurrah  !  for 
the  remaining  ones.  With  a  clear  laugh,  which  rings  out 
over  the  hills,  Genevieve  plunges  headlong  into  the  bosom 
of  her  ocean  lover,  and  lays  with  outspread  arms  upon  his 
beating  breast.  The  next  seen  of  her  is  a  curly  little  head, 
which  might  be  a  crest  of  foam,  away  out  on  the  far  side 
of  the  breakers.  The  thousand  and  one  bathers  pause  in 
their  own  sport  to  see  the  agile  swimmer  drifting  like  a 
lily  beyond  the  space  allotted  to  their  wildest  imagination. 
The  timid  ones,  who  hop  up  and  down  in  the  shallow  waves 
along  shore,  forget  the  rolling  surge,  to  gaze,  and  wonder, 
and  envy,  till  some  heavily  charged  breaker  takes  them 
unawares,  and  souses  them  head  and  ears  into  the  briny 
flood.  Even  uncle  Job  begins  to  get  uneasy  in  his  carriage, 
(for  he  has  too  much  good  sense  to  disguise  himself  in  a 
bathing  dress,)  and  to  think  of  cramps,  and  spasms,  and 
what  not,  that  are  associated  in  his  mind  with  bathers.  She 
is  so  far  away  that  even  his  anxious  eye  can  hardly  distin 
guish  her.  At  length,  however,  when  uncle  Job  has  ex 
hausted  all  the  horrors  of  his  imagination,  the  lithe  little 
figure  is  seen  drifting  towards  the  shore.  Uncle  Job  orders 
the  coachman  to  drive  nearer  the  waves,  that  he  may  guard 
her  more  vigilantly  with  his  eyes. 

"  I  shall  have  to  scold  her,"  he  thought ;  "  she  mustn't  do 
it.  Bimeby  I'll  lose  her." 

The  little  swimmer,  however,  came  out  of  it  bravely, 
and  landed  upon  the  beach,  —  glowing,  dripping,  palpi- 


IIAOAR     THE      MARTYR. 

tating, —  a  very  naiad  in  all  but  exclusive  water  privi 
leges. 

Of  course,  she  had  to  peep  into  the  carriage,  and  say 
"  Booh  !  "  to  uncle  Job  ;  the  result  of  which  was,  that  the 
scolding  was  forgotten,  and  she  coaxed  in  all  dripping  as 
she  was,  and  driven  to  the  very  door  of  her  dressing  car. 
I  wouldn't  like  to  deprive  uncle  Job  of  his  laurels,  but  I'm 
afraid  the  idea  of  his  wife  trotting  up  through  the  crowd 
of  starers,  with  her  finely  developed  form  sacrilegiously 
exposed  by  the  clinging  drapery,  had  something  to  do  with 
it.  By  the  by,  that  has  been  one  of  the  fashionable  myste 
ries  to  me,  how  ladies,  delicate  and  sensitive,  who  would 
faint  at  sight  of  a  nude  statue,  can  boldly  parade  in  front  of 
the  artillery  of  eyes  marshalled  on  the  beach  for  the  express 
purpose  of  satisfying  their  curiosity,  by  discovering  how 
much  there  is  of  the  reigning  belles  that  isn't  cotton.  Of 
course,  individually,  I  go  in  for  all  the  good  things  going ; 
and  I  only  speak  of  it  as  one  of  the  mysteries  worth  solv 
ing.  Small  blame  to  uncle  Job  for  secreting  his  treasure 
.  from  the  curious  eyes.  Miss  Margaretta  Pinchin,  for  rea 
sons  of  her  own,  had  accepted  uncle  Job's  invitation  to 
make  one  of  their  party :  with  what  greedy  eyes  she  fol 
lowed  the  movements  of  Genevieve,  and  how  she  longed  to 
overtake  her  in  some  act  of  wrong  doing,  only  those  can 
imagine  who  have  themselves  been  cursed  with  some  such 
officious  friend. 

"  Job  Thornton ! "  she  exclaimed,  one  evening  after  a 


HAGAR     THE     MARTYR.  323 

week's  residence  among  them.  "  Here  !  "  It  was  a  single 
word,  but  her  eyes  told  a  volume  of  mystery. 

"Hush!"  Placing  her  hand  within  his  arm,  she  led 
him  unresistingly  into  the  shadow  of  a  window,  opening 
upon  the  balcony. 

"  Look  !  "  Miss  Pinchin  dealt  in  monosyllables,  but  her 
eyes  blazed  out  with  gratified  malice.  Uncle  Job  did  look, 
and  there,  sure  enough,  was  his  darling,  not  arm  in  arm 
with  a  gallant,  but  with  her  pretty  waist  familiarly  clasped, 
and  her  short  curls  mingling  with  those  of  one  to  whom  he 
had  already  conceived  a  dislike  too  strong  for  comfort. 
They  were  engaged  in  low  and  earnest  conversation,  were 
the  youthful  pair,  and  once  uncle  Job  saw  Genevieve  wipe 
her  eyes  as  if  in  affliction. 

"  I'll  not  watch  her  —  /  ivon't !  If  there's  any  thing 
goin'  on  that  concerns  me,  she'll  tell  me !  She  will,  I'm 
certain  !  Don't  stop  me  ;  I  won't  listen  !  If  there's  wrong 
going  on,  which  there  isn't,  I  shan't  thank  you  for  the  in 
formation  —  mind  that !  But  there  isn't ;  there  isn't !  I 
couldn't  bear  it  if  there  was  !  "  And  uncle  Job  tore  him 
self  away,  and  went  in  to  wait  her  coming  in  their  private 
parlor.  "  She'll  tell  me  —  she  certainly  will  !  and  yet 
what  business  had  he  with  his  arm  around  her  waist  ?  If  I 
thought  —  but  no,  no,  I  don't  think  !  she  will  make  a  clean 
breast  of  it,  whatever  it  is." 

An  hour  passed,  and  nothing  but  the  echoing  music  broke 
the  silence  of  his  thoughts ;  another  hour,  and  a  tripping 
step  passed  through  the  parlor  and  into  the  adjoining  bed- 


324  HAQAB     THE     MAKTTR. 

room.  He  knew  the  step  too  well  not  to  be  aware  that  she 
had  returned.  She  had  never  done  so  before  —  never 
passed  him  without  a  kindly  word.  To  be  sure  it  was  dark, 
and  she  might  not  have  seen  him.  Full  of  this  hope,  he 
passed  into  the  chamber  where  she  was  already  feigning 
sleep.  He  knew  she  was  only  feigning,  and  that  more  than 
all  the  rest  began  to  unsettle  his  confidence. 

"  Have  you  nothing  to  tell  me,  dear,  before  you  go  to 
sleep ;  nothing  that  I  ought  to  know,  or  that  you  would 
feel  more  comfortable  to  have  me  know  ?  "  said  he,  half 
kneeling  by  the  bed,  and  gathering  her  little  head  to  his 
bosom. 

"  Why,  what  should  there  be  to  tell " 

"  Stop,  stop,  darling.  I  couldn't  bear  it,  indeed  I  couldn't 
bear  to  be  deceived  by  you  !  I've  trusted  you  so,  and  loved 
you  so  —  I  shouldn't  be  hard  with  you,  whatever  it  was ! 
I  know  I'm  old  and  rough,  and  not  like  what  you  ought  to 
have  had  for  a  husband  —  I  see  it  now  more  than  ever ! 
and  if  my  loving  you  has  made  you  unhappy,  why,  we  must 
mend  the  matter  some  how.  Now  tell  me,  dear,  what  it  is ; 
and  what  can  I  do  to  make  up  for  the  past  ?  —  only  don't 
let  people  make  a  handle  of  it.  You've  been  so  perfect  and 

so  spotless  that  I  could  not  bear  to  see  you " 

Genevieve  gulped  down  a  sob,  which  she  converted  into 
a  groan. 

"  I'm  so  sleepy  —  do  let  me  go  to  sleep !  " 
"  O,  darling,  there's  a  hard,  cold  world  before  you  that 
you  have  never  tried;  there  are  trials,  and  temptations, 


HAGAR     THE     MARTYR.  325 

and  sorrows,  which  you  can't  always  shut  away  by  sleep. 
In  memory  of  the  love  which  would  have  shielded  you,  tell 
me  what  there  is  that  I  ought  to  know,  and  that  I  must 
know  sooner  or  later,  from  lips  that  I  could  less  bear  it 
from ! " 

In  -his  energy  he  had  dropped  down  on  his  knees  by  the 
bedside,  and  placed  his  ear  to  her  mouth  to  catch  the  faint 
est  intimation  of  an  answer  —  but  no  answer  came  ;  only 
the  still,  suppressed  sound  of  silent  weeping. 

"  I  won't  trouble  you  any  more  to-night  —  only  promise 
me  that  you'll  do  nothing  rash  !  Promise  me  that !  " 

Genevieve  did  promise,  and  then  sat  up  in  her  bed  till 
the  last  echo  of  his  footfall  was  lost  in  the  night's  silence. 

"  Noble,  generous  to  the  last !  He  will  never  believe 
that  if  I  cosld  have  a  sorrow  it  would  be  caused  by  the 
thought  of  having  pained  him." 

"When  uncle  Job  returned  to  the  balcony,  he  found  it  still 
in  possession  of  the  strange  young  man  to  whom  he  owed 
his  recent  sorrow.  This  person,  calling  himself  Mr.  Pear 
son,  from  Tennessee,  had  appeared  at  Newport  on  the  same 
evening  that  the  Boston  party  arrived.  He  attached  him 
self  to  them  at  once,  with  such  tenacity,  that  now,  as  it  all 
lay  before  the  memory  of  uncle  Job,  there  seemed  to  have 
been  a  preconcerted  plan  to  that  effect. 

"  I  must  see  the  ending  of  it,"  murmured  uncle  Job. 

"  This  may  be  some  old  lover  come  back  to  her,  and  she'll 

break  her  heart  trying  to  do  what's  right.     But  she  shan't 

—  no,  she  shan't!     I'll  have  a  talk  with  him  to-morrow, 

28 


326  HAGAR     THE     MARTYR. 

and  if  he  wants  to  go  to  England,  or  any  where  else,  and 
she  wants  to  accompany  him,  the  money  shan't  be  want 
ing!" 

Comforting  himself  as  well  as  he  could  with  this  decis 
ion,  uncle  Job  fell  asleep  in  his  chair,  and  woke  no  more 
till  the  sun  was  up  in  the  east,  and  the  birds  breakfasting 
in  the  willows. 


CHAPTER   XXXII. 

NEWPORT  BEACH. 

A  STORM  had  sprung  up  during  the  night,  but,  as  is 
often  the  case  in  that  locality,  its  fury  had  died  out  with 
the  coming  light ;  and  by  the  time  the  bathers  were  ready 
for  the  beach,  the  sky  lay  broad  and  blue  as  the  ocean,  with 
no  fleck  nor  cloud  to  mar  its  purity.  It  was  indeed  a  jubi 
lant  morning.  The  birds  sang  louder  and  longer-metred 
hymns,  as  they  rocked  themselves  to  rest  in  their  leafy 
cradles.  Every  wave  of  the  ocean  seemed  to  have  caught 
its  own  particular  sunbeam,  and  to  be  hugging  it  with  rap 
ture.  The  very  sands  upon  the  beach  seemed  laughing 
with  the  sunshine  and  the  waters.  The  infectious  gayety 
spread  from  party  to  party ;  and  never  had  the  broad  ocean 
caressed  such  gleeful  sprites  as  this  morning  trusted  them 
selves  to  his  embrace.  Genevieve  was  the  gayest  of  the 
gay.  She  had  avoided  her  husband  as  far  as  possible 
since  the  events  of  last  evening,  for  which  Miss  Pinchin 
could  have  kissed  her.  Instead  of  paying  their  accus 
tomed  visit  to  the  beach  in  their  own  carriage,  as  usual, 
she  insisted  upon  going  with  the  crowd  in  an  omnibus. 
The  idea  of  thwarting  her  in  any  way  had  never  entered 
uncle  Job's  mind ;  so,  with  no  word  of  reproach,  he  assisted 

(327) 


328  HAGAR     THE     MARTYR. 

her  in,  packed  her  little  basket  containing  the  bathing 
appurtenances  under  the  driver's  seat,  and  turned  to  his 
own  room  in  the  hotel ;  not,  however,  before  he  had  seen 
the  obnoxious  rival  snugly  ensconced  by  her  side.  Uncle 
Job  did  what  I  suppose  any  other  man  would  do  under  the 
circumstances  —  indulged  in  innumerable  moody  thoughts, 
and  finally  ordered  his  carriage  to  drive  him  to  the  beach. 
He  arrived  just  in  time  to  see  his  wife's  party  —  consisting 
of  Lawrence,  Edward  Colton,  her  invalid  brother,  Esther 
Milroy,  herself,  and  the  stranger  youth  —  tripping  gayly 
down  to  the  water.  As  usual,  Genevieve  darted  off  be 
yond  the  wildest  daring  of  her  companions,  and  uncle  Job 
had  the  satisfaction  of  knowing  that  his  rival  couldn't 
follow. 

"  He  can't  swim  no  more  than  a  fish,"  was  his  inward 
reflection.  O,  how  she  luxuriated  in  the  rich  surf  which 
came  tumbling  in  from  the  sea !  What  fun  they  had,  and 
what  pranks  they  played  upon  the  timid  ones !  How  their 
shouts  drifted  out  on  the  wind,  and  came  back  again  with 
the  echoes !  How  the  very  waves  seemed  doubling  them 
selves  up  with  the  exertion  of  laughter !  and  how  the  cow 
ardly  persons  envied  the  sport  which  was  productive  of  so 
much  pleasure !  But  hark !  there  was  a  shout  of  fear 
clashing  rudely  against  the  sounds  of  mirth.  A  man  is 
drowning !  a  man  is  drowning !  How  the  news  flew  over 
the  waves,  and  was  repeated  by  the  echoes !  Every  limb 
of  the  bathers  seemed  paralyzed.  Was  there  no  one  to 
save  him. — not  one?  Yes;  Genevieve  sees  him;  Gene- 


HAGAR     THE     MARTYR.  329 

vieve  sweeps  through  the  waves  to  his  rescue.  Uncle  Job 
looks  on,  now  thoroughly  excited,  and  praying,  although  it 
is  his  rival,  that  his  life  may  be  spared.  He  has  no  fear 
for  Genevieve.  He  has  seen  her  battling  with  the  waves 
too  often  to  fear  harm  for  her.  The  water,  which  but  a 
moment  before  was  agitated  by  the  pranks  of  a  thousand 
human  beings,  is  now  deserted  by  all  but  the  drowning 
man  and  the  intrepid  woman.  She  has  gained  his  side ; 
she  has  wound  her  arm  around  his  waist ;  and  now  they 
are  both  safe  upon  the  shore,  while  cheer  after  cheer  rings 
out  into  the  solemn  distance.  But  what  a  metamorphosis  ! 
In  the  struggle  for  life  the  tightly-secured  oil  cap  has 
wrenched  its  fastenings,  and  in  tumbling  off  has  borne  the 
crisp  black  wig  of  the  stranger  far  away,  to  surprise  the 
water  sprites.  But,  streaming  down  over  his  neck  and 
shoulders,  half  shrouding  his  pale  face,  a  flood  of  golden 
curls  flutter  and  ripple  in  the  sunlight ! 

"Norah!" 

"Michael!" 

u  Genevieve  !  " 

"Uncle  Job!" 

It  was  as  good  as  a  play.  "With  these  simple  exclama 
tions,  the  two  parties,  regardless  of  the  wondering  eyes  of 
the  crowd,  were  clasped  in  each  other's  arms.  And  then 
such  a  world  of  explanations  as  there  were  to  give !  —  how 
Genevieve  had  known  Mrs.  Lawrence  ever  since  she  knew 
any  thing;  how  she  had  sympathized  with  her  from  the 
first,  when  it  was  found  that  in  the  mesmerist's  love  for 
28* 


330  HAGAE     THE     MARTYR. 

novelty  his  young  wife  was  neglected;  how  they  had 
always  corresponded,  with  the  hope  yet  that  when  satiety 
came,  the  husband's  heart  would  return  to  its  first  love; 
how,  at  last,  desperate  and  hopeless,  she  had  disguised  her 
self,  to  be  near  him  ;  how  the  secret  was  one  that  wouldn't 
keep  in  uncle  Job's  possession,  and  so  she  had  concealed  it ; 
how  she  felt  sorry  at  first  to  give  him  anxiety,  but  how  she 
thought  he  deserved  a  little  punishment  for  doubting  her 
under  any  circumstances ;  —  all  of  which  was  so  satisfac 
tory  to  uncle  Job  that  he  proceeded  immediately  to  set 
himself  down  to  the  lowest  mark  of  humility.  Had  he 
deserved  all  the  names  he  heaped  upon  himself,  the  gallows 
would  not  long  have  groaned  for  a  victim. 

The  explanations  between  Lawrence  and  his  wife  were 
equally  satisfactory,  though  rather  more  private  in  their 
details. 

Esther  Milroy,  of  whom  the  vacillating  nature  of  Law 
rence  had  already  wearied,  was  that  season  united  to  the 
invalid  cousin,  to  whom  she  gave  her  unremitting  attention. 
Of  the  Newport  party  I  need  only  say  that  Miss  Pinchin 
left  in  the  first  boat,  after  the  failure  of  her  dearest  hope ; 
that  Lawrence,  thoroughly  tired  of  his  wanderings,  became 
devotedly  attached  to  his  splendid  wife,  thereby  repaying 
her  for  her  endurance  and  suffering ;  and  that  uncle  Job, 
more  enamoured  than  ever,  paid  such  heed  to  little  Gene- 
vieve's  teachings,  that  by  the  time  they  returned  to  Boston 
he  could  pass  muster  in  any  society,  without  betraying  the 
rough  angles  of  his  education.  Genevieve  was  so  thor- 


HAGAR     THE     MARTYR.  331 

oughly  a  home  body,  that,  so  long  as  her  sphere  of  useful 
ness  was  open  for  her,  she  cared  but  little  for  the  interests 
and  excitements  of  the  fashionable  world  around  her. 
"  The  poor  have  ye  always  with  you,"  was  her  motto,  up  to 
which  she  still  lives,  although  years  have  silvered  the  hair 
of  uncle  Job,  and  swelled  her  own  luscious  plumptitude  of 
person  into  positive  dumpiness ;  but  there  are  plenty  to 
remember  her  when  her  waist  could  have  been  spanned  by 
a  half  yard  of  ribbon ;  all  of  which  her  husband  recounts 
day  after  day  to  their  friends. 


CHAPTER    XXXIII. 

TURNING  THE  TABLES. 

DISGRACE  Hagar  Martin !  Now  that  the  hour  had  come, 
Mrs.  Welman  sat  in  her  lonely  chamber,  and  thought. 
What  had  she  done  that  revenge  so  horrible  need  be  meted 
out  to  her  ?  Was  it  her  fault  that  a  lifetime  had  been  de 
voted  to  the  man  her  daughter  loved  —  to  the  man  her 
daughter  had  determined  to  conquer  and  wear  in  her  bosom 
as  a  trophy  of  triumph  ?  No  matter  —  the  die  was  cast. 
There  was  but  one  road  to  the  accomplishment  of  her  de 
sire,  and  that  she  determined  to  take. 

"  Let  this  be  the  last  crime,  and  the  last  accusation ! " 
she  said  to  Anna,  who,  all  flushing  with  anticipation  and 
triumph,  had  left  the  crowd  below  to  tell  her  mother  that 
Hagar  had  arrived. 

"  I  promise  you,  mother.  Only  aid  me  in  securing  that 
man,  and  I  promise  you  that  my  life  shall  be  as  pure,  as 
exemplary,  and  as  immaculate  as  you  could  wish." 

There  had  been  a  large  party  invited  —  the  first  reunion 
since  the  return  of  the  fashionables  from  their  summer  re 
treat.  Mrs.  Scammon  was  there,  subdued,  but  not  humbled, 
by  misfortune.  Madam  Monpensieur  rattled  away,  volu 
ble  as  ever,  to  the  little  clique  who  owned  her  sway  —  Mr. 

(332) 


333 


Veazie  and  Ellen  ;  Lizzie  Linder  and  Hagar,  with  "Walter 
as  companion  ;  in  fact,  all  the  persons  who  were  wont  to 
figure  in  the  Welman  clique.  The  first  cotillon  was  just 
forming,  and  the  music  already  sounding  through  the  halls, 
when  the  haughty  form  of  Mrs.  "Welman  appeared  in  the 
drawing  room  door. 

"Stop!" 

Every  eye  was  turned  upon  the  speaker,  while  a  thrill 
of  dread  ran  through  the  assembly.  Perhaps  each  one 
there  had  a  secret  of  their  own,  which  they  feared  had 
reached  the  ears  of  the  merciless  woman.  Hagar  had  in 
stinctively  risen  up,  and  standing  alone  in  the  crowd,  like 
some  wild  beast  of  prey,  looked  back  the  scorn  and  defiance 
which  flashed  upon  her  from  the  eyes  of  Mrs.  Welman. 

"  What  is  there,"  Mrs.  Welman  went  on,  with  her  eyes 
still  glancing  at  Hagar,  "  what  is  there  in  the  world  —  what 
sin,  what  crime  more  demoralizing  to  society,  more  dan 
gerous  to  principle,  more  fearful  in  its  depravity,  than  im 
purity  of  a  heart  burnt  and  blackened  by  wantonness  ?  " 

Mrs.  "Welman's  eyes  swept  round  upon  the  wondering 
group,  until  they  again  met  those  of  Hagar. 

"  I  need  not  tell  you  to  whom  I  allude.  Look  at  that 
woman,  whose  pale  face  and  trembling  limbs  -  " 

"  Trembling  !  "  repeated  Hagar,  with  sharp  scorn,  stand 
ing,  as  she  had  risen,  with  one  hand  pressed  upon  her 
bosom,  to  still  its  tumult. 

"There  have  been  years  of  hypocrisy  and  wantonness  — 
years  of  impenitence  and  recklessness,  too  open  for  the 


334  HAGAK     THE     MAKTYR. 

deception  of  any  but  persons  deluded  by  her  seeming  talent, 
as  we  have  been." 

Ellen  had  left  the  side  of  Veazie,  and  now  stood  with 
one  arm  around  her  friend. 

"  Of  course  there  will  be  plenty  to  defend  her  —  plenty, 
like  that  misguided  girl  now  clinging  to  her,  who  will  blame 
me  for  the  duty  I  must  discharge,  and  perhaps  cling  all  the 
more  closely  to  her.  That  sin  such  as  hers  is  fascinating  — 
that  sin  such  as  hers  is  bewildering  —  it  is  not  only  now 
that  we  have  come  to  know " 

"  But  what  does  it  all  mean  ? "  broke  in  the  voice  of 
uncle  Job.  "  Of  what  do  you  accuse  Hagar  ?  " 

"  First,  of  wantonness,  at  an  age  when  other  girls  are 
children;  secondly,  of  deceiving  us,  of  mingling  with  us, 
and  of  poisoning  the  minds  of  her  companions." 

u  False  !  "  cried  Hagar  ;  "  false  from  beginning  to  end. 

I  stand  here  alone "  There  was  a  stout  arm  around 

her  waist,  and  turning  her  eyes,  she  met  those  of  Walter, 
kindly  encouraging  and  affectionate. 

"  Not  alone,  Hagar ;  never  more  alone." 

It  was  the  second  time  she  had  met  that  gentle,  protect 
ing  glance ;  once  when  as  a  child  he  defended  her  from  the 
cowardly  boy,  and  now  in  his  determination  to  defend  her 
from  the  crowning  sorrow  of  her  life. 

The  crowd  began  to  gather  around  Hagar,  and  prepared 
to  hear  her  defence.  Mrs.  Welman  was  exasperated  be 
yond  all  prudence. 

"  Did  I  not  say  so  ?    Did  I  not  tell  you  that  vice  was 


HAGAK     THE     MARTYR.  335 

bewildering,  and  could  wear  the  mask  of  innocence  ?  I 
tell  you  there  is  contamination  in  the  very  air  she  breathes. 
There  is  hypocrisy  in  every  thought  of  her  heart.  Be 
warned  in  time.  Crush  her  —  disgrace  her  —  shake  her 
off!" 

"  Hoity  toity,  old  'oman !  who  put  you  in  spokesman,  and 
never  cropped  your  ears  ?  I  guess  you'd  better  let  some 
body  else  get  a  word  in  edgeways,  hadn't  you  ?  Speak  up, 
Hagar.  We  an't  any  on  us  perfect,  unless  its  old  mother 
thingumbob  there ;  and  if  she  isn't  she'd  ought  to  be," 
laughed  uncle  Job,  while  his  little  wife  nodded  her  appro 
bation. 

"  Come,  speak  out,  Miss  Martin.  Are  you  so  very 
wicked  ?  " 

«Te*/" 

"  Yes  !     O,  don't  say  that,  looking  so  sober  !     Don't" 

"  Had  Mrs.  Welman  thus  publicly  assailed  me  for  any 
purpose  of  duty,  or  of  kindness  to  those  about  me,  I  would 
have  borne  it  all,  and  felt  that  it  was  merited ;  but  perse 
cution  like  hers  bears  the  stamp  of  insincerity  upon  it. 
From  my  youth  upward  Anna  McVernon  has  been  my 
direst  foe.  She  loved  where  I  loved." 

Walter's  arm  tightened  around  her  waist. 

"  You  have  all  known  me  for  the  past  fourteen  years ;  I 
have  been  before  you,  daily  and  nightly,  as  a  woman  and  as 
a  writer ;  and  I  ask  if,  in  those  years,  beyond  the  love  for 
my  childhood's  friend,  which  I  have  been  too  proud  to  con 
ceal,  I  have  evinced  any  disposition  of  wantonness  in  my 


836  HAGAK     THE     MARTYR.. 

daily  walks  ?  -  Have  I  tinctured  my  writings  with  contam 
inating  doctrines  ?  If  so,  discard  me." 

"  No,  no,  no  !  "  rang  out  from  the  interested  group. 

"  If  I  desire  to  veil  the  incidents  of  years  agone  —  inci 
dents  which  I  know,  and  have  known,  were  familiar  to  you 
all  —  it  is  because  I  do  not  choose  to  pain  my  friends  with 
their  recital.  I  have  sinned,  and  I  have  tried  to  atone. 
You  cannot  know  how  grateful  I  have  been,  and  am,  for 
the  consideration  you  have  shown  me  —  for  the  helping 
hands  which  have  been  offered  me.  That  woman  there  has 
meditated  this  exposure,  thinking  to  scare  from  me  all  my 
associates  —  as  if  I  could  care  for  friends  who  would  turn 
their  backs  on  the  struggles  of  a  woman  really  repentant, 
and  desirous  of  atonement.  No  ;  and  if  I  speak  of  it  now, 
it  is  with  the  experience  of  my  life  before  you,  telling  you 
that  there  is  redemption  for  the  sinning  Magdalen,  that  you 
may  hereafter  deal  less  harshly  with  the  erring  portion  of 
womanhood,  believing  that  charity  can  harm  no  one,  and 
may  be  the  means  of  restoring  to  society,  the  world,  and 
herself  some  erring  woman,  whose  greatest  fault,  like  mine, 
was  her  youth  and  inexperience." 

*'  Bravo,  bravo  ! "  shouted  uncle  Job  ;  "  bravo  —  several 
times  bravo  !  Mind"  —  and  here  the  smiles  faded  out  of 
uncle  Job's  face,  —  "mind,  I  don't  say  there  should  be 
no  dividing  line  betwixt  virtue  and  vice ;  I  don't  contend 
lhat  a  person,  either  woman  or  man,  should  go  agin  the 
laws  of  a  Christian  land  without  the  punishment  they  de 
serve —  that's  not  my  argument ;  but  when  one's  down,  and 


HAGAR     THE     MAKTYR.  337 

shows  a  penitent  desire  to  get  up  agin,  I  say,  don't  pass  by 
on  the  t'other  side,  nor  refuse  the  helpin'  hand  to  lift  'em 
up.  The  Bible  says  there  is  more  joy  over  one  sinner  that 
repenteth  than  over  ever  so  many  just  ones  that  need  no 
repentance.  They  make  that  last  class  of  people  nowa 
days.  We  are  all  born  with  a  spice  of  the  old  what's-his- 
name  in  our  hearts,  and  what's  misfortune  to  somebody  else 
now,  may  be  to  us  before  we  die ;  so " 

"  Will  that  man  have  done  his " 

"  You  shut  up,  and  clear  out !  That  man  won't,  and  if 
he  don't  put  a  flea  in  your  ear  before  he's  done " 

"  Don't,  Mr.  Thornton !  I  don't  deserve  your  kindness," 
murmured  Hagar,  more  thoroughly  subdued  by  it  than  she 
could  ever  have  been  by  harshness. 

"  As  I  said  a  moment  ago,  you  all  know  the  history  of 
my  life ;  you  have  all  seen  my  efforts  to  retrieve  the  past ! 

If  you  deem  me  still  fit "  Hagar  could  contain  her 

grief  no  longer,  but  sank,  sobbing,  on  Walter's  shoulder. 

"  Miss  Martin,"  uncle  Job  went  on,  having  voted  himself 
spokesman  for  the  whole  company,  "  Miss  Martin,  one 
must  winter  and  summer  you  to  understand  you  as  well 
as  we  do.  There's  too  much  of  you  —  that's  your  only 
fault,  as  I  know  of.  There  ought  to  have  been  a  dozen 
children  by  when  you  was  born,  to  have  shared  your  indi 
viduality.  You  are  independent,  and  can't  help  it ;  and  if 
eveiy  body  else  tried  as  hard  to  be  themselves  as  they  do  to 
be  one  among  the  million,  the  world  would  be  the  better  for 
29 


338  HAGAB     THE      MAKTYK. 

the  exchange,  and  we  should  at  least  have  the  gratification 
of  knowing  that  people  were  in  earnest." 

Uncle  Job's  oration — ovation  Mrs.  Welman  called  it  — 
was  interrupted  by  the  opening  of  the  door,-  and  the  en 
trance  of  Ida's  poet,  with  a  strange  woman  on  his  arm. 

"  What  brought  that  woman  here  ? "  almost  screamed 
Anna.  "  Hide  me  from  her  !  O,  hide  me  !  Who  has  thus 
betrayed  me  so  cruelly  ?  " 

"xWas  it  cruel  for  you  to  betray  one  who  had  never 
wronged  you  ?  "  questioned  the  intruder.  "  Anna  McVer- 
non,  before  Heaven  and  these  witnesses,  I  accuse  you  of 
the  same  crime  which  you  have  brought  against  Hagar 
Martin.  The  child  of  your  shame  faded  out  in  my  arms, 
the  innocent  victim  of  its  mother's  neglect." 

"  Anna !  "  exclaimed  her  mother,  white  and  quivering 
with  emotion,  "  Anna  !  disprove  this  wretch's  word ;  you 
surely  are  not  guilty  of  such  a  crime ! " 

But  Anna's  only  answer  was  a  sob. 

"  For  Heaven's  sake  answer  me !  or  if  guilty,  when  and 
where  was  your  crime  committed  ?  " 

"/will  tell  you,"  exclaimed  the  intruder.  "Years  ago, 
while  passing  a  twelvemonth  in  New  York.  You  should 
have  been  certain  that  there  was  no  stain  on  your  garments, 
before  crushing  a  struggling  woman  like  that." 

"  Who  brought  her  here  ?  Never  let  them  darken  my 
doors  again  !  Call  the  servants,  and  have  her  hustled  out. 
I  don't  believe  a  word  she  utters !  Her !  The  common 
street  walker,  the  trull  that  comes  and  goes  at  every  one's 


HAGAR     THE     MARTYR.  839 

bidding,  that  can  be  bought  or  sold  for  sixpence  of  any 
man's  money,  to  dare  denounce  my  daughter ! " 

"  I'm  afraid  '  my  daughter '  will  have  to  cry  guilty,  Mrs. 
Welman,  or  I'm  no  judge  of  countenances,"  said  uncle 
Job,  with  a  flourish  of  his  hand  towards  the  sofa,  where 
Anna  lay  trembling  and  confused.  At  the  insinuation,  she 
started  to  her  feet,  and  beckoned  forward  a  member  of  the 
party,  who,  from  the  unknown  stranger,  had  grown  to  be  the 
most  ardent  admirer  of  the  proud  beauty. 

"  You  have  not  triumphed  yet,  let  me  tell  you.  You 
have  begun  your  rejoicing  too  early  altogether.  This  gen 
tleman  may  have  a  word  to  say  on  the  subject."  "Waving 
her  hand  towards  the  person  designated,  the  eyes  of  the 
company  all  turned  in  his  direction ;  but  instead  of  the 
handsome,  dark-whiskered,  and  dark-mustached  gentleman, 
who  had  circulated  through  the  city  for  some  months  as  a 
southern  planter,  there  appeared  a  fierce-looking,  gray-haired 
ruffian,  holding  liis  wig,  whiskers,  and  mustache  loosely  in 
his  hand.  Hagar  neither  screamed  nor  faulted ;  but  after 
gazing  a  moment,  fixedly,  into  his  face,  she  pronounced  the 
name  Laird. 

"  0,  you  do  know  him,  then  ;  and  perhaps  you  will  rec 
ognize  these  gentlemen,"  laughed  Anna,  as  two  officers, 
equally  well  disguised,  approached,  and  laid  each  a  hand 
upon  her  shoulder. 

"  Stand  off !  "  shouted  Walter,  wrenching  her  from  their 
clasp.  "  Stand  off,  villains,  fiends  !  What  is  the  meaning 
of  this  outrage  ?  Stand  off,  I  say,  and  answer  me  ! " 


840 


"  She  is  my  slave ! " 

Horror  stricken  indeed  seemed  the  friends  of  Hagar. 

"  Your  slave  ! " 

"  Whom  I  demand  at  your  hands.  I  come  prepared  to 
cjaim  my  property." 

"  Your  property — Hagar  your  property?" 

"  'Tis  too  true,  Walter  —  I  have  expected  this  for  years. 
I  should  have  told  you,  but  I  had  not  the  heart." 

"  You  a  slave,  Hagar !     O,  impossible,  impossible  !  " 

"  Come  —  no  more  fooling  —  time's  precious,  and  I  must 
be  off."  Laird,  (for  he  it  was,)  who,  under  the  influence  of 
Anna,  had  gained  entrance  into  the  house,  advanced  to 
seize  Hagar ;  but  before  his  hand  touched  her  arm,  he  was 
sent  by  a  well-directed  blow  of  Walter's,  reeling  to  the 
floor. 

u  She  shall  pay  for  this  ! "  he  muttered,  as  he  gained  his 
feet ;  but  his  prey  was  not  quite  within  his  gra?p. 

"  Michael  Laird ! "  exclaimed  the  strange  woman,  who 
had  first  confronted  Anna,  "  do  you  know  me  ? "  She 
had  been  pressing  closer  and  closer  to  Hagar,  with  looks 
of  unutterable  love  and  sorrow. 

Laird  returned  her  gaze  for  a  moment,  and  then  faced 
round  to  Anna  with  a  whisper.  "  It  is  all  up  —  that's 
Hagar  Martin's  mother."  The  whisper  was  caught  up,  and 
circled  from  mouth  to  mouth,  while  the  confused  woman 
stood  glaring  into  the  face  of  Hagar,  to  see  how  the  news 
•would  affect  her. 

"  0  my  darling  —  my  beautiful  Hagar  —  my  own,  own 


HAGAE     THE     MARTYR.  34-1 

child ! "  she  burst  forth  at  length,  prostrating  herself  at 
Hagar's  feet,  and  kissing  the  hem  of  her  garments. 

"  If  you  knew  how  I  have  watched  over  you,  and  followed 
your  footsteps,  and  tried  for  your  sake  to  be  what  you 
would  not  blush  to  recognize,  should  the  knowledge  ever 
come  to  you  that  you  were  a  child  of  crime  and  remorse, 
you  would  not  wholly  despise  me  —  you  would  at  least 
pity  me." 

During  this  speech,  while  the  party  were  engaged  with 
this  singular  scene,  Laird  had  crept  away  unnoted,  even  by 
the  tiger  eyes  of  Anna. 

"  My  head  is  wool-gathering,  I  do  beh'eve !  It  seems 
like  a  dream !  "What  does  it  all  mean  ?  You  Hagar's 
mother  ?  Come,  sit  down  and  tell  us  all  about  it." 

"  There  is  not  much  to  tell !  It  is  an  old  story  —  old  as 
love,  and  suffering,  and  sorrow.  I  was  the  sister  of  Alva 
Martin  —  Hagar's  supposed  father  —  his  youngest  sister, 
and  —  O,  spare  me  the  shame  of  a  recital.  Enough  that 
there  came  one  that  the  family  opposed  —  prayers,  en 
treaties,  all  were  vain ;  he  was  forbid  the  house  —  and  I 
—  I  fled  with  him.  Hagar  was  the  offspring  of  that  sin 
ful  attachment.  Time  proved  that  my  friends  were  right 
in  their  opposition  ;  for  soon  after  her  birth  he  left  me  to 
seek  some  newer  fancy,  and  to  add  another  link  to  the 
chain  of  his  crimes.  I  sent  Hagar,  with  a  letter,  to  my 
brother.  He  adopted  her  —  his  wife  became  a  mother  to 
her;  and  I  —  I  became  an  outcast.  Judge  of  my  surprise 
when  I  met  Hag^fr  my  child,  in  the  streets  of  Boston. 
29* 


842  HAGAR      THE      MARTYR. 

I  knew  her,  for  I  had  made  yearly  pilgrimages  to  the  south 
to  see,  at  least  by  stealth,  the  object  of  my  mother*  love ! 
O,  how  my  heart  yearned  for  her  !  but  I  knew  it  was  wisest 
and  best  to  leave  her  in  the  hands  of  those  who  were  will 
ing  and  able  to  do  well  for  her.  I  traced  her  here,  to  the 
house  of  her  uncle,  in  Charlestown.  Since  then  I  have 
been  her  shadow.  I  had  Anna  Welman's  child  to  bring 
up ;  and  through  its  mother  learned  much  that  was  likely  to 
affect  Hagar's  peace  —  amongst  which  was  the  supposition 

that  she  was  the  child  of  a  slave.     Laird  knew  me  when 

% 
a  girl,  and  somehow  became  acquainted  with  the  fact  of 

Hagar's  birth.  I  will  not  tell  of  the  acts  of  extortion  he 
performed  to  secure  his  silence.  Until  to-night,  I  did  not 
dream  he  would  dare  lay  to  her  charge  that  of  being  a 
slave  !  And  now,  O  Hagar  —  my  child  —  one  kiss,  and  I 
will  never  again  intrude  upon  your  presence.  It  was  only 
to  save  you  that  I  have  done  so  now." 

"  0,  never. —  mother  —  for  my  heart  tells  me  you  are  my 
mother !  Never  !  My  home  shall  be  your  home.  Walter 
will  not  object,  I'm  sure." 

"  Not  he  —  not  he ! "  exclaimed  uncle  Job.  "  If  he  does, 
I'll  object  to  him  ! " 

To  do  him  justice,  he  was  as  anxious  as  Hagar  to  save 
her  mother  from  further  care.  It  was  an  excited  party  that 
left  the  mansion  of  Mrs.  Welman  that  evening,  but  few  of 
whom  questioned  the  truth  of  the  story,  or  the  policy  of 
Hagar  in  at  once  adopting  her  new-found  mother  into  the 
heart  of  her  home  ! 


, 

H  A  G  A  R     THE     MARTYR.  843 


The  last  guest  had  departed  from  the  brilliant  mansion 
of  the  Welmans  !  Two  forms  alone  gave  life  to  the  lonely 
rooms. 

«  Daughter ! " 

"  Mother  !  " 

"  The  game  was  a  deep  one  ! " 

"  And  is  lost !  " 

Neither  Anna  McVernon  nor  her  worldly-minded  mother 
ever  appeared  in  society  again  ;  but  a  few  months  after 
there  was  a  bill  of  sale  in  the  windows  of  their  once  mag 
nificent  home. 


CHAPTER    XXXIV. 

MILES  SCAMMON'S  CRISIS. 

THERE  came  one  day  a  dismal  morning  for  the  Westerns. 
State  Street  was  full  of  it,  and  the  papers  were  full  of  it, 
and  the  private  circles  were  full  of  it. 

Miles  Scammon  had  failed. r 

Had  the  sky  fallen  it  would  not  have  created  greater 
amazement. 

Miles  Scammon!  After  that,  who  could  have  credited 
the  wealth  of  any  one  ?  "  Who  could  have  thought  it  ?  " 
was  on  the  lips  of  every  one ;  while  not  a  few  gloated  over 
the  discomfiture  of  Mrs.  Miles  Scammon  in  a  manner 
which  proved  that  envy  could  become  a  guest  even  among 
the  "  tons  "  of  society.  More  calls  were  made  on  that  par 
ticular  morning  than  ever  before,  and  more  scandal  and 
illiberality  disseminated  than  would  have  stocked  a  country 
village.  Mr.  Western  came  home  pale  and  trembling,  as 
if  an  ague  had  seized  him. 

"  What  is  it,  Hiram  ?  "  questioned  Madam  Western,  wind 
ing  her  arm  about  her  husband's  neck ;  for,  with  all  her 
faults,  she  was  an  affectionate  wife  and  mother. 

"  I  am  ruined  —  undone !  That  villain  Scammon  has 

(344) 


HAG  All     THE     MARTYR.  346 

failed,  and  broken  me  down  in  his  fall!"  and  Western 
buried  his  face  in  his  clasped  hands. 

"  We  will  be  happy  in  spite  of  it,  Hiram.  We  haven't 
been  half  as  happy  since  we  tried  to  get  into  fashionable 
society  as  we  were  when  we  were  contented  with  our  little 
country  home.  O  Hiram,  I  must  say  I'm  not  a  bit  sorry, 
only  for  you ;  and  you've  got  me,  and  the  babies,  and  the 
little  farm  of  mine,  and  we  will  go  back  again,  and  be  as 
comfortable  as  the  day  is  long." 

"  But  to  think  how  he  took  me  in !     Curse " 

"  No,  no,  no,  Hiram !  Don't  curse  him.  He's  misera 
ble  enough  without  that,  you  may  be  sure ;  and  as  for  her, 
I  certainly  do  pity  her,  from  the  bottom  of  my  heart." 

Little  Madam  Western  pitying  Mrs.  Miles  Scammon ! 
After  that,  there  was  no  knowing  what  might  happen  in 
this  world.  Western  took  the  advice  of  his  wife,  arranged 
his  affairs  to  the  best  of  his  ability,  and  was  once  more  the 
inmate  of  his  own  quiet  country  cottage. 

"  Every  thing  is  for  the  best,"  one  day  burst  forth  Madam 
Western,  from  the  cloud  of  her  musings.  "  I  never  was 
happy  till  I  got  into  big  company,  and  I  never  should  have 
been  if  I  hadn't  got  there.  It  wasn't  what  it  was  cracked 
up  to  be  though,  was  it,  Hi  dear  ?  and  now  that  I  know  it 
from  my  own  experience,  I  shall  never  want  to  leave  my 
oosy  little  home  again." 

Mrs.  Western  was  right.  Very  unsubstantial  indeed 
are  the  delights  of  fashionable  frivolity. 

Perhaps  there  are  those  among  my  readers  who  feel 


346  HAGAR     THE     MARTYR. 

curious  to  know  how  the  poet  "Wimple  and  his  Ida  got  out 
of  the  scrape  with  his  aunt.  One  fine  day  .in  autumn,  as 
this  same  aristocratic  and  overbearing  aunt  was  preparing 
for  her  morning  drive,  sickness  came  along,  and,  being  no 
respecter  of  persons,  doubled  her  up,  —  turban,  feathers, 
jewelry,  and  all,  —  and  laid  her  upon  a  lonely  bed.  It  was 
ever  so  much  more  o'clock  than  it  ought  to  have  been,  con 
sidering  "Wimple  was  an  affectionate  nephew,  before  he 
returned  from  the  city  to  his  aunt's  country  residence.  He 
didn't  look  a  bit  sorry  when  the  servants  told  him  what  had 
happened,  especially  after  assuring  himself  there  was  noth 
ing  dangerous  in  the  illness. 

"  Just  the  thing,"  he  was  heard  to  say  to  himself,  after 
leaving  his  aunt's  room  for  the  purpose  of  going  to  the 
city  to  procure  a  nurse.  My  readers  are  not  th*e  intelli 
gent  persons  I  take  them  to  be  if  they  have  not  guessed 
who  was  "just  the  thing,"  and  who,  in  a  few  hours  after 
said  exclamation,  was  domiciled  in  the  terrific  presence  of 
the  stately  aunt  —  moving  about  so  quiet  and  so  gentle, 
anticipating  all  the  wants  which  querulous  sickness  invents, 
laying  her  little  cool  hands  upon  the  burning  brow  of  the 
invalid,  and,  in  fact,  making  herself  so  generally  useful, 
that,  after  a  few  weeks  of  trial  and  endurance,  it  was  found 
impossible  to  do  without  her.  So  there  she  remains  —  the 
happiest  little  Ida  under  the  sun. 


CHAPTER    XXXV. 

EFFIE  LEE. 

IN  all  these  pages  has  sweet  Effie  been  forgotten  ?  Is 
there  one  of  my  readers  that  will  go  back  with  me,  not  to 
old  Virginia  exactly,  but  to  its  next  door  neighbor,  Caro 
lina?  Here  we  are  again  in  the  mansion  of  Colonel  Rose, 
away  back  to  the  race  week  of  years  agone. 

"  When  a  woman  will,  she  will,  you  may  depend  on't, 
And  when  she  won't,  she  won't,  and  there's  an  end  on't," 

sung  or  whistled  the  old  gentleman,  with  a  most  lugubrious 
countenance,  as  Effie  danced  off  with  an  "I won't"  upon 
her  lips,  but  an  "  I  will "  within  her  eye. 

"  Hang  all  girls,  say  I,  with  their  girl  notions,  and  their 
highfaluten  romances,  and  their  don't-know-their-own-mind- 
ativeness!  Lord  save  me!  if  I  had  more  than  one  to 
manage,  I  should  book  myself  for  the  lunatic  asylum  .at 
once,  and  let  them  slide.  She  won't  have  Charley  Lee  — 
as  good  a  fellow,  ay,  and  as  smart  and  as  handsome,  as  the 
best  lord  of  the  land.  Lord!  he's  a  king  amongst  men, 
an  eagle  among  barn  door  fowls  —  that's  what  he  is ;  and 
now,  after  all  my  trouble  to  bring  the  two  farms  together  — 

(347) 


348  H  A  G  A  R     THE     MARTYR. 

I  mean  the  two  children  together  —  she  won't  have  Charley 
Lee !  We'll  see  about  that,  my  lady !  Ah,  ha !  you  may 
laugh  as  loud  as  you  please;  you  like  Charley,  and  you 
shall  be  made  happy  in  spite  of  your  teeth ! " 

A  loud  chorus  of  voices  broke  up  the  old  man's  soliloquy, 
and,  looking  from  the  windows  upon  the  lawn,  he  saw  the 
whole  party  approaching  in  great  glee;  all  but  Charley, 
who  was  some  length  ahead,  and  quite  alone,  while  Effie 
hung  with  most  provoking  abandon  upon  the  arm  of  his 
rival,  Wells.  A  bright  thought  seemed  all  at  once  to  enter 
the  head  of  the  colonel ;  for,  with  a  "  That's  it "  on  his  lips, 
he  hastened  to  the  porch,  and  dragged  Charley  in  out  of 
sight  of  the  company.  "  Now  mind  your  cue,  Charley,"  he 
began,  griping  his  hand  like  a  vice,  "  mind  your  cue.  I've 
a  capital  plot  in  my  head  —  no  time  to  divulge  here  —  only 
take  a  joke  as  if  it  was  earnest.  Here  they  are ; "  and, 
bristling  up  in  great  ire,  he  stumped  backward  and  for 
ward  upon  the  balcony,  puffing  and  blowing,  and  sending 
out  little  fragments  of  angry  sentences,  till  the  whole  party 
stood  in  amaze  before  him.  "  To  have  the  impudence ! " 
he  went  on ;  "  to  have  the  insolence,  and  unheard-of  assur 
ance  ! " 

"  Why,  father  !  "  questioned  Effie,  in  surprise. 

"  Don't '  father '  me,  miss !  Don't  speak  to  me !  and  yet 
you  were  right,  after  all.  You  were  more  discriminating 
than  I  was.  I  thought  that  fellow  there  "  —  pointing  sternly 
at  Charley  Lee  —  "was  a  sensible,  honorable  man.  I 


HAGAB     THE     MARTYR.  849 

thought  to  be  proud  of  him  as  a  husband  to  my  only  child ; 
but  now  —  now  —  O,  I've  no  words  to  express  my  indigna 
tion  and  contempt ! " 

"Father!"  Effie  had  somehow  got  over  to  the  side  of 
Charley,  and  stood  pale  and  firm  before  him. 

"  Come  away  from  him  —  I  command  you  !  He  is  dis 
graced  beyond  redemption !  Thank  Heaven,  it  is  not  too 
late !  If  I  had  had  my  way,  you  would  have  been  his  wife 
• —  the  wife  of  a  reckless,  foolish,  miserable  gamester ! " 

"Sir!" 

"  Silence  !  I  was  your  father's  friend  ;  we  were  boys 
together ;  and  his  last  words  were,  that  I  should  espouse 
the  cause  of  his  son  and  heir ;  but  now,  so  much  do  I 
despise  your  unprincipled  conduct,  that  from  this  time 
henceforth  I  demand  that  you  never  enter  my  doors  again. 
Nay,  more  than  that,  the  marriage  to  which  I  had  looked 
forward  with  such  hope  I  here  forbid ;  and,  Effie,  the 
sooner  you  marry  your  new  lover,  Mr.  Wells,  the  better 
you  will  please  me  I  " 

The  happy  sparkle  died  out  of  Mr.  Wells's  eyes,  under 
the  look  of  imperious,  scorn  with  which  Effie  met  her 
father's  sanction. 

"  What  is  Charley's  fault,  father  ?  You  are  not  used  to 
condemn  without  reason." 

"  Reason  !     The  whole  estate  squandered  ;  the  splendid 

mansion  of  his  father  given  over  to  vile  spendthrifts  and 

thieves  ;  the  broad  lands  and  wooded  hills  all  gone  —  lost 

—  staked  upon  a  race  of  which  a  child  might  have  known 

30 


350  HAGAB     THE     MAETYR. 

the  result.  Reason !  Ask  for  his  betting  book,  and  see 
the  reason  !  "  And  the  colonel  flung  up  his  coat  tails,  and 
ranted  up  and  down  the  balcony  fiercer  than  ever. 

"  But,  father,  all  gentlemen  bet,  more  or  less,  on  the 
races.  You  do  yourself.  Charley  is  no  more  to  blame 
than  you  would  be  had  you  lost.  It  was,  at  best,  a  passive 
fault." 

"Passive!  "WTiat  do  you  call  a  passive  fault?  I  tell 
you  he  has  lost  every  cent  he  is  worth, on  earth;  and  I 
dare  say,  if  you  were  not  a  girl  of  too  much  spirit,  he 
would  ask  you  to  share  his  poverty.  Let  me  tell  you  an 
old  adage,  and  a  true  one — 'When  poverty  comes  in  at  the 
door,  love  flies  out  at  the  window.'  But  come,  start ;  we 
are  wasting  time.  Effie  shall  be  Mrs.  Wells  before  another 
week  comes  over  her  head.  And  as  for  you,  I  advise  you 
to  leave  the  country  altogether.  You'll  find  no  sympathy 
here,  I  can  tell  you." 

"  Why,  father !  is  it  possible  you  can  treat  an  old  friend 
in  this  manner  ?  Misfortune  is  no  fault." 

"  What  business  had  he  to  be  unfortunate  ?  It  is  time 
for  you  to  learn  to  what  man's  worship  clings  in  this  world. 
When  Charley  Lee  was  rich  —  high  in  name  and  worldly 
goods  —  he  was  a  desirable  husband  for  any  girl  of  standing ; 
but  now,  what  is  there  in  his  future  worth  any  woman's 
serious  consideration  ?  " 

« I  will  tell  you,  father.  A  strong  will  and  a  stout  heart ; 
an  arm  to  battle  with  the  wrongs  of  life,  and  a  spirit  that 
will  not  droop  under  the  strongest  trials.  I  will  risk  Char- 


HAGAR     THE     MARTYR.  351 

ley  Lee,  though  he  has  lost  fame  and  fortune ;  and  what's 
more,  I'll  stick  to  him,  rain  or  shine  —  as  the  actress  said 
in  the  play,  '  through  fortune's  might,  and  fortune's  blight, 
to  blazon  or  to  blur.'  So  you  can  take  yourself  off,  Mr. 
Wells,  and  the  sooner  the  better.  Of  course  I  wouldn't  be 
sold  to  Charley  —  no,  not  to  the  king  of  the  world ;  but 
when  I  find  him  poor,  friendless,  and  deserted,  —  when  I 
find  my  own  father  turning  against  him,  —  it  is  time  I 
showed  my  hand." 

"  Effie,  come  to  me  this  moment.  You  don't  know  what 
you  are  talking  about." 

"  I  don't  care  three  straws.  I'm  not  a-going  to  set  my 
face  against  my  old  playmate,  I  can  tell  you.  Why,  he 
has  risked  his  neck  a  thousand  times  to  humor  some  caprice 
of  mine ;  and  as  for  the  farm,  let  it  go.  If  any  body,  or 
any  pair  of  bodies,  can  look  the  future  in  the  face,  black  or 
no  black,  it's  Charley  and  I ;  so  there  now.  Whenever 
you  are  ready,  /  am,  Charley,"  said  the  excited  girl,  turn 
ing  and  laying  her  hand  upon  her  lover's  arm. 

Colonel  Rose  could  scarcely  contain  himself  for  joy  at  the 
success  of  his  stratagem.  The  guests  had  dispersed  in  one 
direction  and  another,  not  wishing  to  become  witnesses  of 
family  dissensions. 

"  You'll  not  even  ask  the  blessing  or  consent  of  your  fa 
ther,  I  suppose  ?  " 

"  Ask  it !  Of  course  we  shall  ask  it,  like  »  dutiful  pair 
of  cubs  as  we  are ;  but  if  we  don't  get  it,  I'm  afraid  we 
shall  manage  to  do  without  it.  Eh,  Charley  ?  " 


352 


"No,  no,  no,  Effie.  If  I  could  have  called  you  mine 
when  fortune  smiled  upon  me,  nothing  on  earth  could  have 
added  to  my  bliss  ;  but  now,  to  take  you  from  a  luxurious 
home,  and  place  you  in  an  abode  of  poverty  and  toil  —  to 
deprive  you  of  the  thousand  comforts  and  luxuries  which 
have  become  essentials  —  no,  no  ;  don't  think  me  so  selfish 
as  that,  Effie.  I  don't  deserve  it.  Perhaps  the  time  may 
come  when  I  shall  have  redeemed  myself — when  your  fa 
ther,  thinking  less  harshly  of  me,  may  dare  to  trust  your 
fortune  to  my  keeping  ;  but  for  the  present " 

Charley  made  a  tragic  rush  for  the  door,  while  the  old 
man  turned  his  back,  and  converted  the  laugh  hi  his  throat 
into  a  cough. 

"No,  you  don't,  neither !"  exclaimed  Effie,  seizing  him 
by  the  arm.  "  I  believe  you  have  all  conspired  to  break 
my  heart  —  you  amongst  the  rest,  Charley.  If  I  can't 
have  my  way  in  this,  it  is  a  pity.  I  will  have  Charley  ; 
I  always  intended  to  have  Charley ;  and  now  that  he  needs 
me,  I'm  more  than  ever  resolved  to  have  Charley."  And 
a  passionate  fit  of  crying,  such  as  a  child  might  indulge  in, 
followed  her  decided  avowal. 

"  Mr.  Lee,  will  you  leave  my  house  ?  " 

"  No,  that  he  shan't,  unless  he  takes  me  with  him." 

"  Go  to  your  room,  miss.  Go !  I  iniisf,"  And  fu 
riously  ringing  his  bell,  he  summoned  her  confidential 
maid. 

"  Conduct  your  mistress  to  her  chamber,  and  see  that 
you  run  of  no  errands  for  her.  Do  you  hear  ?  " 


HAGAR     THE     MARTYR.  859 

"Yes,  massa." 

"  Go  !  I've  a  few  words  to  say  in  private  to  my  young 
spark  here.  I'll  settle  his  claim  at  once  and  forever." 

"  Never  doubt  me,  Charley,  whatever  happens.  They 
can't  make  me  marry  any  body  else,  if  they  lock  me  up  ever 
so  tight."  And  away  she  flaunted,  not  deigning  a  look  to 
her  incensed  father. 

Once  in  her  chamber,  she  hastily  scribbled  a  few  lines  on 
the  blank  leaf  of  a  book. 

"  Take  this  to  Charley,  as  he  crosses  the  park  below  the 
lawn,  and  wait  for  his  answer." 

"  Yes,  missis."  And  Effie  watched  the  egress  of  her 
lover  with  blazing  eyes. 

"  To  control  me  —  me  !  "  she  murmured  to  herself,  stamp 
ing  her  foot  impatiently.  "  I  wish  they  may  get  i£,  that's 
all.  There  he  goes,  dear  Charley  !  Mr.  Wells  is  a  fool  to 
him.  I  hope  father  won't  catch  Patsey." 

Could  she  have  seen  the  eager  grasp  of  her  father's  hand 
upon  that  of  her  lover,  or  have  heard  that  rollicking  laugh 
so  hard  to  suppress,  the  tone  of  her  indignation  would  have 
changed,  and  Charley  Lee's  chance  of  a  wife  grown  beau 
tifully  less. 

"  What  did  he  say  ?  "  said  she,  eagerly  springing  to  tho 
door  to  meet  her  maid. 

"  He'll  be  here.     Never  you  fear  for  him" 

That  evening  mirth  and  music  reigned  supreme  at  the 
mansion  of  Colonel  Rose.  The  beauty  and  chivalry  of  the 
whole  state  were  assembled  to  celebrate  the  termination  of 
SO* 


354  HAGAR     THE     MARTYR. 

the  races,  and  among  them  all  none  shone  more  brightly  or 
conspicuously  than  pretty  Effie  Rose.  She  had  a  word  and 
a  smile  for  all  —  a  compliment  or  a  repartee,  a  flash  of 
\vit  or  a  gleam  of  mirth,  was  ever  rolling  over  her  beauti 
ful  lips.  For  a  wonder,  she  had  chosen  a  white  satin  dress, 
looped  with  flowers  upon  the  shoulders,  while  a  short  skirt 
of  the  richest  Brussels  lace  gave  an  airy  lightness  to  her 
figure,  quite  in  keeping  with  the  happy  expression  of  her 
face.  Her  hair  was  without  ornament,  other  than  the  pro 
fusion  of  natural  curls  which  showered  over  her  neck,  and 
lay  in  quivering  rings  upon  her  heaving  bosom.  No  won 
der  her  father  gazed  upon  her  in  pride,  and  presented  her 
to  his  guests  with  a  confident  feeling  that  they  too  must  see 
her  superiority  over  the  mass  of  women  therein  congre 
gated.  :Sometimes  a  perceptible  sadness  gathered  upon  her 
face  while  listening  to  the  praises  of  her  father.  Short  were 
their  duration,  however ;  for  from  her  earliest  recollection 
she  had  swayed  his  impulses,  as  the  wind  sways  the  foliage 
of  the  mighty  oak ;  and  surely,  she  argued,  it  would  only 
be  a  few  days'  estrangement,  to  be  followed  Ry  a  life-long 
forgiveness,  even  if  she  did  go  against  his  will. 

The  dance  was  at  its  height,  the  supper  table  groaned 
with  its  weight  of  luxury,  when  a  low  sound,  something 
approaching  a  whistle,  caught  the  listening  ear  of  Effie. 
Gliding  from  the  room,  as  she  supposed,  unperceived,  she 
ran  hastily  to  her  chamber,  gathered  up  a  few  essential 
articles,  which  she  gave  to  her  maid,  enveloped  herself  in 
a  large  shawl  and  travelling  hood,  and  the  next  moment 


HAGAR     THE     MARTYR.  355 

was  tripping  down  the  back  stairs,  to  elope  with  the  lover 
that  she  had  a  hundred  times  discarded. 

From  a  window  old  Colonel  Rose  peeped  out,  with  a  face 
swollen  with  suppressed  laughter.  As  the  carriage  rolled 
off,  a  loud  ha,  ha,  ha-ha-ha-r  !  startled  the  guests  from  their 
mirth,  while  one  or  two  of  the  more  daring  penetrated  to 
the  room  from  whence  the,  sound  proceeded.  There  they 
found  the  old  man  rolling  on  the  lounge  in  an  agony  of 
laughter. 

"  She's  run  away ;  ha,  ha,  ha-ha-ha-r-r  !  run  away  from 
her  old  father ;  ha-ha  !  outwitted  him  ;  out-generalled  him ; 
ha,  ha !  it  is  too  good,  too  good !  Ha,  ha,  ha-r ! " 

By  this  time  the  whole  crowd  were  around  him. 

"  He's  crazy,"  said  one. 

"  She  oughtn't  to  have  done  it,"  said  another. 

"  It  will  all  come  back  again  to  her,"  said  a  third,  while 
the  colonel  took  up  the  chorus  with  his  stentorian  ha,  ha. 

"  Bathe  his  head ! "  said  an  old  woman,  proceeding  to 
put  her  advice  into  practice. 

"  Bathe  the  devil!  "  roared  out  the  old  man.  "  I  tell 
you  it's  all  right !  It  couldn't  be  better !  She's  gone  — 
eloped  —  run  away  with  the  only  man  on  earth  that  I 
would  have  allowed  her  to  marry !  "  And  between  laugh 
ing  and  crying,  he  told  them  the  whole  story  ;  not  sparing 
even  the  valiant  Mr.  Wells  in  the  narrative. 

The  excitement  of  the  scene  gave  a  fresh  impetus  to  the 
flagging  energies  of  the  people,  and  a  new  edition  of  music 


856  HAGAR     THE     MARTYR. 

and  dancing  commenced,  which  continued  till  the  last  hem 
of  the  night's  robe  lay  at  the  feet  of  the  coming  day. 

"  When  a  woman  will,  she  will,  you  may  depend  on't, 
And  when  she  won't,  she  won't,  and  there's  an  end  on't," 

reiterated  Colonel  Rose  to  himself,  for  the  thousandth  time, 
as  he  laid  his  head  upon  his  pillow,  and  composed  himself 
to  sleep. 


CHAPTER    XXXVI. 

A  WORD  FOB  ALL  PASTIES. 

AMID  the  bloom  and  beauty  of  a  southern  home,  there 
dwells  a  woman  who  is  an  angel  of  mercy  to  the  sick,  and 
a  ministering  spirit  to  all  who  need  her  sympathy.  The 
poor  recognize  her  and  bless  her,  while  many  a  one  of 
those  whom  temptation  has  thrown  from  their  high  station 
of  purity,  rain  blessings  on  the  hand  that  dared  to  lead 
them  back  again  to  virtue  and  religion.  She  has  never 
forgotten  her  own  errors  and  misfortunes,  nor,  while  fondly 
gazing  into  the  face  of  her  bright,  handsome  husband,  does 
she  quite  regret  the  trials  which  taught  her  the  value  of  a 
true  love.  Martyr  no  longer,  Hagar  Meadows  does  not 
fail  to  recognize  the  hand  of  Providence  in  her  misfortunes, 
and  thanks  her  heavenly  Father  daily  for  the  wider  range 
of  sympathy  it  has  given  her  for  the  sufferings  of  the 
world  at  large ;  and  when  the  hour  comes  that  shall  close 
the  scenes  of  her  eventful  life  to  those  who  know  her  best, 
no  grave  will  cast  a  darker  shadow  than  will  that  of  Hagar, 
the  gentle,  loving  woman  and  wife. 

In  the  same  home  that  shelters  Hagar,  wealthy,  talented, 
and  beautiful  in  her  full  womanhood,  lives  the  widow  of 
Alva  Martin,  beloved  by  all  who  know  her.  Her  lover 

(357) 


HAGAR      THE     MARTYR. 

never  recovered  from  his  life-struggle  with  the  villain 
Laird.  He  died  shortly  after,  leaving  the  beautiful  Georgi- 
anna  a  sincere  mourner  for  his  loss. 

Laird  became  still  more  a  wanderer  and  an  outcast,  till, 
impelled  by  that  restless  desire  for  crime  which  seemed 
inherent  to  his  nature,  he  committed  a  desperate  act  of 
arson  and  robbery,  which  consigned  him  for  life  to  a  con 
vict's  cell. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Scammon  are  still  struggling  "  to  keep  up 
appearances,"  wearing  out  soul  and  body  in  a  ceaseless 
strife  with  poverty  and  pride.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Western 
more  wisely  adapted  themselves  to  circumstances,  and  live 
in  perfect  happiness  and  unity,  without  even  a  cloud  of 
jealousy  to  mar  their  comfort.  Ellen  Willard  sleeps  within 
a  vine-wreathed  enclosure  at  Mount  Auburn,  a  victim  to 
consumption,  alias  a  broken  heart.  All  through  the  rich 
bloom  of  summer,  flowers  are  heaped  upon  her  bosom  with 
a  liberal  hand,  and  many  a  visitant  to  that  "garden  of 
graves  "  has  paused  in  her  vicinity,  awed  to  silence  by  the 
bent  and  sorrowful  old  man  who  haunts  its  precincts.  Un 
cle  Job  Thornton  and  sweet  Genevieve  patter  around  the 
city  together  —  both  of  them  older  than  when  first  we  met 
—  doing  a  world  of  good  which  never  meets  the  eye  of 
society,  but  which,  nevertheless,  finds  as  much  favor  in  the 
eye  of  Him  who  has  imbued  their  hearts  with  such  kindli 
ness  and  generosity,  as  if  recorded  in  all  the  prints  in  the 
city.  The  Welmans  suddenly  left  the  city.  Some  years 
eince,  Hagar's  husband  induced  her  to  patronize  a  concert 


HAGAR     THE     MAETTB.  359 

in  their  vicinity.  "When  the  curtain  rose,  and  the  star  of 
the  evening  appeared,  she  was  not  greatly  surprised  to 
recognize  in  her  brilliant  dress  the  once  haughty,  aristo 
cratic  Anna  McVernon.  What  her  career  has  since  been 
I  am  unable  to  say,  she  having  since  left  the  country. 

I  must  not  close  without  a  passing  word  of  Erne  Rose. 
It  was  a  long  time  before  she  became  reconciled  to  the  un- 
romantic  portion  of  her  romantic  wedding ;  however,  she 
bore  up  under  it  bravely.  The  mansion  of  old  Colonel 
Rose  is  still  the  home  of  the  "  brave  and  the  free,"  although 
the  bravest  and  the  freest  of  all,  his  own  worthy  self,  has 
long  since  paid  the  just  debt  of  nature.  He  lived  to  see 
Erne  surrounded  by  blessings  in  the  shape  of  lovely  chil 
dren,  and  to  know  that  the  match  turned  out,  what  he  be 
lieved  it  must,  a  happy  one  for  all  parties.  He  lived  to  a 
good  old  age,  in  full  possession  of  all  his  kindly  faculties, 
and  died  beloved  by  all  the  country  round. 

The  unhappy  mother  of  Hagar  lived  but  a  few  months 
after  establishing  the  birth  of  her  child. 

Minnie  is  still  a  resident  of  the  free  states,  though  not 
without  the  fear  that  some  time  it  may  become  her  turn  to 
create  the  excitement  and  endure  the  suffering  which  our 
laws  have  so  cruelly  forced  upon  those  who  have  had  the 
intellect  and  the  keenness  to  work  out  their  own  escape 
from  slavery. 

Lizzie  Linder  —  bright  and  beautiful  Lizzie  —  goes 
about  in  her  happy,  saucy  way,  making  every  body  happy 
as  herself.  The  golden  El  Dorado  claims  her  now,  where 


360  HAGAR     THE     MARTYR. 

all  good  blessings  of  friends  and  fortune  wait  upon  her 
wishes. 

The  Pinchin  boarding  house  is  still  among  the  elephants 
of  the  city,  both  sisters,  as  usual,  superintending  the  affairs 
of  their  patrons  to  the  neglect  of  their  own. 

Thus  ends  the  catalogue  of  those  who,  during  the  pre 
ceding  pages,  have  kept  us  company.  If  they  have  served 
to  amuse  or  instruct  one  of  my  readers,  or  if  they  have 
lightened  the  weary  hour  of  a  single  sufferer,  or  awakened 
sympathy  in  one  heart  for  the  victims  of  misfortune  or  of 
circumstance,  my  toil  has  been  repaid ;  and  so,  reader,  we 
part  company,  neither,  I  trust,  the  worse  for  the  time  and 
interest  expended  upon  Hagar  the  Martyr  ! 


THE     END, 


HOME  SCENES  AND  HOME  SOUNDS; 


OB, 


THE  WORLD  FROM  MY  WINDOW. 


BY 


H.  MARION  STEPHENS. 


BOSTON: 
FETRIDGE    AND    COMPANY, 

M  DCCC  LIT. 


A  TREATISE 


CAMP    AND    MARCH 


WITH   WHICH  13   COXXECTEB 


THE  CONSTRUCTION  OF  FIELD  WORKS 
AND  MILITARY  BRIDGES. 


WITH  AM 


APPENDIX   OF  ARTILLERY  RANGES,  &c. 


FOR  USB   OF 


VOLUNTEERS  AND  MILITIA  IN  THE  UNITED  STATES. 


BY  HENRY  D.   GRAFTON, 

CAPTA.IX    FIRST    REOIMEXT    V.   8.    ARTILLEEY 


BOSTON: 

PUBLISHED    BY    FETRIDGE    AND    COMPANY. 

1854. 


FKTB1DGE  AND  COMPANY. 


VALUABLE   WORK, 


PUBLISHED    BY 


FETRIDGE  &  CO.,  BOSTON 


UNIVERSAL   HISTORY, 

FKOM   THE 

CREATION  OF  THE  WORLD 

TO  THE 

BEGINNING  OF  THE  EIGHTEENTH  CENTURY. 

BY  THE  LATE 

HON.  ALEXANDER  FRASER  TYTLER, 

Lord  Woodhouselee,  Senator  of  the  College  of  Justice,  and  Lord  Com 
missioner  of  Justiciary  in  Scotland,  and  former  Profettor  of 
Civil  History  and  Greek  and  Roman  Antiquities  in  the 
University  of  Edinburgh. 

In  two  volumes,  large  ectavo,  of  more  than  a  thousand 
pages,  with  a  complete  index. 


This  important  work  has  been  stereotyped  at  considerable  expean 
and  is  now  published  in  the  most  substantial  and  attractive  form 


290  FETR1DGE  AND   COMPANY. 


the  subscribers,  and  at  a  price  so  reasonable  that  it  is  placed  within 
the  means  of  the  humblest  citizen. 

By  persons  acquainted  with  the  reputation  of  the  distinguished  author 
of  this  work,  any  attempt  to  urge  his  claims  may  be  justly  deemed  a 
labor  of  presumption.  By  those  less  acquainted  with  his  eminent  meriu 
a  few  words  may  not  be  considered  as  inappropriate. 

Most  people  regard  all  Histories  alike ;  that  is,  for  purposes  of  mere 
information.  They  are  viewed  as  magazines  of  FACTS,  to  be  drawn 
upon  as  we  draw  words  and  definitions  from  a  dictionary.  This  is  a 
great  mistake.  The  whole  of  a  thing  may  be  so  given  in  parts  as 
hardly  to  be  recognized  when  in  form ;  and  the  parts  of  a  History  may 
be  so  disarranged  in  detail  as  to  present  a  confused  series  of  events, 
•which  convey  no  definite  idea  of  system  or  progress. 

History  is  of  but  little  importance  unless  it  affords  rules  of  conduct, 
either  for  individuals  or  nations ;  and  if  an  author  fails  to  combine 
reflection  with  detail,  and  to  give  in  philosophical  order  the  events  of 
nations,  as  causes  and  effects,  as  they  naturally  transpire,  he  accom 
plishes  but  half  of  his  task. 

In  the  UNIVERSAL  HISTORY  of  Mr.  Tytler  there  is  a  happy  combina 
tion  of  the  events  given,  their  relations  and  uses.  The  attentive  reader 
may  be  taught  not  only  the  history  of  the  past,  but  the  probable  destiny 
of  man  and  nations  in  all  time  to  come.  He  is  brought  in  relation  to  a 
comprehensive  view  of  the  FACTS  of  the  world,  and  to  survey  the  extent 
of  man's  powers  and  the  true  logic  of  knowledge.  He  is  led  to  see 
more  perfectly  that  chain  which  joins  effects  to  causes ;  to  view  the 
gradual  progress  of  manners,  the  advancement  of  man  from  barbarism 
to  civilization,  and  thence  to  refinement  and  corruption ;  to  note  the 
connection  of  States  and  Empires ;  and,  above  all,  to  realize  the  greatest 
benefit  of  History  —  its  utility  AS  A  SCHOOL  OF  MOEALS. 

The  study  of  History  enables  a  person  to  have  within  himself  not 
only  a  standard  of  knowledge,  but  of  duty.  In  view  of  these  considera 
tions,  it  will  be  perceived  that  History  is  a  subject  of  the  utmost  magni 
tude,  and  that  the  choice  of  an  author  becomes  a  serious  matter  of 
inquiry. 

IB  asking  particular  attention  to  this  edition  of  TTTLBB,  the  pub 
lisher!  require  no  better  voucher  for  the  correctness  of  his  views  than 


FETRIDGE  AND   COMPANY.  291 


will  be  found  in  the  work  itself,  to  which  they  would  confidently  and 
respectfully  refer  all  Students,  Teachers,  and  Professors,  in  the  hope 
that  they  will  carefully  examine  it,  each  for  himself.  Tho  work  is 
allowed  to  be  well  adapted  to  the  use  of  Schools,  Academies,  and  Col- 
'eges,  and  we  need  not  add  that  for  the  general  reader  its  superior  can- 
lot  be  found  in  our  language. 

JOHN  POSTEB,  "  the  renowned  Essayist,"  in  speaking  of  Tytler  and 
tis  Ilistory,  says,  " He  is  an  able  and  practical  thinker,  possessed  of 
ample  stores  of  learning  and  general  knowledge,  well  acquainted  with 
History,  schools,  and  questions  of  philosophy,  a  discriminative  judge  of 
characters,  and  writing  in  a  style  which  we  deem  a  finished  example  of 
transparent  diction.  It  is  so  singularly  lucid,  so  free  from  all  affected 
rhetoric  and  artificial  turns  of  phrase,  so  perfectly  abstracted,  with  tho 
exception  of  a  law  term  or  two,  from  every  dialect  appropriated  to  a 
particular  subject,  that  we  have  never  viewed  thoughts  through  a  purer  me 
dium.  It  is  so  pure  and  perfect  that  we  can  read  on  without  our  atten 
tion  being  arrested  by  the  medium ;  it  is  as  if  there  were  nothing,  if  we 
may  so  express  ourselves,  between  us  and  the  thought." 

FETRIDGE  &   CO. 


I 

AND 

Life  among  the  Araucanian  Indians, 

IN    1836. 
BY  "WILL  THE  ROVER." 


PUBLISHERS'  NOTICE. 

This  book  may  be  regarded  as  one  of  the  varieties  of  the  day.    It  la 
difficult  to  conceive,  while  perusing  these  Rambles,  where  adventure*  80 


292  FETRIDGE   AND   COMPANY. 


exciting  and  thrilling  are  so  forcibly  told,  that  it  is  a  true  and  veritabto 
narrative ;  but  such,  we  assure  the  reader,  is  the  fact.  The  natural 
scenery  of  that  sunny  region  is  painted  ia  the  glowing  tints  of  a  faithful 
picture.  The  character  of  that  singular  people,  the  Araucanians,  the 
lofty  and  magnanimous  bearing  of  the  warriors,  the  lovely,  confiding, 
and  affectionate  dispositions  of  the  maidens,  are  all  beautifully  deline 
ated  ;  and  so  vividly  are  the  various  scenes  portrayed  that  we  seem  to 
be  transported  to  the  field  where  they  are  enacted,  and  feel  the  varied 
emotions  of  the  actors.  If  some  of  these  adventures  and  incidents  were 
related  in  a  romance,  the  reader  would  probably  say  that  they  were  ex 
aggerated,  so  much  more  strange  is  truth  than  fiction. 

FETRIDGE  &  CO. 


THE  FALCON  FAMILY; 

OB, 

YOUNG     IRELAND. 

BY  THE  AUTHOR  OF  "THE  BACHELOR 
OP  THE  ALBANY." 

First  American,  from  the  Second  English  Edition.     1  vol., 
8vo.,  paper.     Price  25  cents. 


A  writer  in  Eraser's  Magazine  says  of  the  Author  and  his  werks,  "  Ho 
seems  to  have  a  horror  of  being  one  moment  dull ;  such  a  perpetual 
rolley  of  smart  things  was  never  kept  up  in  that  rattling,  never-pausing 
pace,  in  any  other  book  that  has  come  to  us."  | 

"  The  Falcon  Family  is  superior  to  its  predecessor."  — Concord  (N.  H.) 
Freeman. 

"Every  passage  is  sprinkled  with  wit.  Whoever  undertakes  to  read 
ft  can  hardly  lay  it  down  ti'l  he  has  seen  the  end."  —  Boston  Courier. 


FETRIDGE   AND   COMPANY.  293 


"It  is  very  witty  and  amusing." — Boston  Atlas. 

"  We  do  not  think  the  first  forty  pages  surpassed  by  any  thing  extant, 
—  Boston  Post. 

"Another  glorious  mrvel,  by  the  author  of  'The  Bachelor  of  th« 
Albany.' "  —  Boston  Mail. 

Published  by  FETRIDGE  &  Co.,  Boston.     For  sale  in  New 
York  by  Stringer  &  Townsend  and  H.  Long  &  Brother. 


AN  INTRODUCTION  TO  ALGEBRA, 

UPOX  THE 

INDUCTIVE  METHOD  OF  INSTRUCTION. 

BY  WARREN  COLBURN,  A.  M., 
Author  of  Intellectual  Arithmetic  and  Sequel  to  Ditto. 


Considered  by  far  the  best  Algebra  of  the  present  day,  and  used  exten 
sively  in  all  cities  in  the  United  States. 


TO  THE  YOUNG  MEN  OF  THE  UNITED  STATES. 
AN    APPEAL.. 


Wliile  you  are  Young  Men,  prepare  yourselves  for  future 
happiness,  usefulness,  and  respectability. 

For  a  small  amount  of  money,  saved  from  some  profitless  expendi 
ture  once  a  month,  you  may  in  a  few  months  be  put  in  possession  of  • 
Work  from  which  yoi  may  derive  interest  and  profit  for  a  time,  which 
25* 


«04  FETRiDGE   AND   COMPANY. 


will  serve  for  a  study  through  your  life,  and  which  yon  may  hand  down 
to  the  next  generation  as  a  treasure  worthy  the  age  ia  which  you  lived, 
*nd  worthy  their  careful  study. 
The  Subscribers  are  publishing  a  popular  and  elegant  edition  of 

UNIVERSAL    HISTORY, 

FROM   THE 

CREATION    OF    THE   WORLD, 

BY  THE  LATE 

HON.  ALEXANDER  FRAZER  TYTLER, 

LORD  WOODHOSSELEE,  SENATOR  OP  THE   COLLEGE  OF  JUSTICE,  AND  LORD 

COMMISSIONER.  OF  JUSTICIARY  IX  SCOTLAND,  AND  FORMER  PRO 

FESSOR  OF  CIVIL  HISTORY  AND  GREEK  AND  ROMAN  AN 

TIQUITIES  IN    THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  EDINBURGH. 

It  makes  two  handsome  volumes  of  about  1100  pages. 

The  study  of  History  is  the  most  entertaining  and  useful  of  all 
studies  ;  therefore  the  selection  of  an  author  is  of  the  first  importance. 
The  History  by  TYTLER  has  been  through  more  than  one  hundred  edi 
tions  in  England,  is  used  in  the  Universities  of  that  country  and  this, 
and  takes  the  first  rank  among  literary  works.  Be  particular,  therefore, 
to  inquire  for 


Remember  that  "  KNOWLEDGE  13  POWER  ;  "  and  if  you  have  more 
knowledge  than  your  neighbor,  y»u  have  a  power  over  him  which  he 
cannot  successfully  resist. 

Published  by  FETRIDGE  &  CO.,  3  and  5  STATE 
STBEET,  and  72  and  74  WASHINGTON  STREET,  BOSTON; 
and  sold  by  H.  Long  &  Co.  and  Stringer  &  Townsend,  New 
York;.  T.  B.  Peterson  &  Co.  and  Lippincott  &  Grambo, 
Philadelphia  ;  Taylor  &  Co.,  Baltimore  ;  J.  C.  Morgan,  New 
Orleans  ;  and  by  bcoksellers  through  the  United  States. 


FETRIDGE   AND    COMPANY. 


THE  BALM  OF 


FOR  BEAUTIFYING  THE  COMPLEXION,  AND  REMOVING  ALL 

TAN,   PIMPLES,  AND  FRECKLES; 

FOB  SHAVING,  AND    CLEANSING  THE  TEETH. 

% 

THE  FOLLOWING  ARE  A  FEW  NOTICES  OF  THE  PRESS, 

From  tH«  Editor  of  tne  London  Mail. 

BALM    OF    THOUSAND    FLOWERS. 

This  is  the  euphonic  and  very  poetical  name  of  a  new  and  valuable 
cosmetic.  Its  inventor,  Dr.  A.  De  Fontaine,  of  Paris,  has  been  at  great 
expense  and  lafeor  in  its  composition,  and  has  succeeded,  to  theiutmost 
of  his  wishes,  in  preparing  an  article  which  will  prove  conducive,  in  the 
highest  degree,  to  the  health,  comfort,  and  enjoyment  of  all  who  use  it. 
Composed  of  plants  and  flowers  of  the  most  healthy,  innocent,  and 
powerful  properties,  collected  from  different  parts  of  the  world,  being 
highly  perfumed  by  its  own  ingredients,  and  peculiarly  pleasant  in  its 
Operation,  it  cannot  fail  to  impart  satisfaction  to  all  who  employ  it  for 
the  purposes  for  which  it  is  so  happily  and  wonderfully  adapted.  It  is 
designed  for  the  toilet,  the  nursery,  and  the  bath,  and  as  such  it  is  rec 
ommended  by  the  faculty  of  London  and  Paris,  as  well  as  of  the  prin 
cipal  cities  of  the  United  States,  and  it  has  been  decidedly  approved  by 
thousands  who  HI  e  it  in  preference  to  all  other  cosmetics. 

(995) 


296  FETRIDGE   AND   COMPANY. 


Every  one  who  has  attended  to  the  philosophy  of  health  knows  of 
what  immense  importance  it  is  to  the  true  enjoyment  of  life  and  a  free 
exercise  of  the  faculties  to  keep  the  skin  clean  and  the  pores  open,  by 
frequent  ablutions.  A  composition  tending  to  facilitate  this  operation, 
and  at  the  same  time  render  it  more  salutary  and  pleasant,  must  be  re 
ceived  by  all  classes  of  the  community,  and  particularly  by  those  of  in 
telligent  and  enlightened  minds.  The  delicate  and  soothing  sensations 
which  it  produces,  the  delightful  softness  which  it  imparts  to  the  skin, 
the  clearness  and  beauty  which  it  gives  to  the  complexion,  and  the  pow 
erful  sanative  virtues  it  possesses  in  removing  cutaneous  diseases,  will 
be  universally  acknowledged.  Its  application  relieves  the  surface  of  all 
impurities,  leaving  a  renovated  skin  and  a  pure  and  healthy  bloom.  As 
an  emollient  for  the  hair  it  is  unrivalled,  promoting  its  growth,  prevent 
ing  its  loss,  and  giving  it  a  soft  and  glossy  richness.  As  a  wash  for 
cleaning  the  teeth  it  is  unsurpassed  by  any  dentifrice  now  in  use,  pro 
moting  their  preservation,  arresting  their  decay,  and  rendering  them 
clean  and  white  as  alabaster.  As  an  article  for  shaving,  it  is  superior 
to  any  thing  now  in  use  that  we  have  seen  tried  for  that  purpose,  not 
only  facilitating  that  operation,  but  at  the  same  time  imparting  an  agree 
able  softness  and  freshness  to  the  face. 

Eeader,  do  not  class  this  with  the  thousand  nostrums  of  the  day.  No 
one  can  be  in  doubt  of  its  virtues,  as  its  qualities  may  be  tested  before 
purchasing. 


BALM  OF  THOUSAND  FLOWERS, 

For  removing  all  tans,  pimples,  and  freckles  from  the  face,  for  remov 
ing  grease  spots  from  clothes  or  carpeting,  for  beautifying  the  skin,  for 
shaving,  cleansing  the  teeth,  or  curling  the-  hair.  This  is  what  we  are 
assured  this  celebrated  Balm  will  do,  and  we  see  that  the  proprietors 
offer  $500  reward  to  any  person  who  can  produce  its  equal  in  efficacy. 
Fetridge  &  Co.,  of  Boston,  are  the  proprietors  of  the  Balm,  and  are 
most  enterprising  gentlemen.  The  price  is  one  dollar  per  bottle,  and 
the  money  to  be  returned  if  the  article  does  not  prove  satisfactory.  We 
observe  by  a  Boston  paper  a  sign  of  the  prosperity  of  the  firm.  It 
says,  — 

"  City  improvements  are  visible  on  every  hand ;  among  the  most  con- 
ijicuous  in  oni  vicinity  is  one  of  Fetridge,  the  enterprising  bookseller 


FETRIDGE  AND   COMPANY.  297 


and  publisher.  He  has  recently  added  two  stories  to  his  building  on 
Washington  Street,  making  it  six  stories  in  height.  One  of  these  is 
occupied  as  a  library  and  reading  room ;  so  the  ladies  say  Fetridge  has 
a  new  library  idea,  and  a  good  one.  He  puts.. two  hundred  copies  of 
every  new  book  that  is  likely  to  create  an  excitement  into  his  library, 
so  that  subscribers  are  never  told  that  the  volume  they  desire  is  '  out.' " 


A  Letter  from  a  London  merchant  to  tlie  Proprietors. 

MESSRS.  FETKIDGE  &  Co. 

Gentlemen :  Seeing  an  advertisement  some  time  since  in  the  London 
Times  of  Dr.  Fontaine's  Balm  of  Thousand  Flowers,  I  was  induced  to 
buy  the  article,  having  been  completely  covered  with  freckles  ever  since 
I  can  recollect  the  appearance  of  my  face.  I  had  tried  several  cosmetics 
for  the  purpose  of  removing  them,  but  without  success.  After  using  one 
bottle  of  the  Balm,  my  face  appeared  much  smoother,  and  I  imagined 
that  some  of  the  smaller  freckles  had  vanished,  at  least  by  gaslight 
they  could  not  be  seen.  I  continued  to  use  the  article,  and  am  now 
rejoiced  to  state  to  yon  that  they  have  entirely  disappeared.  I  have 
likewise  used  the  Balm  for  shaving  and  cleansing  the  teeth,  believing  it 
to  be  the  best  thing  ever  discovered  for  these  purposes,  as  well  as  for 
making  and  keeping  the  complexion  beautiful.  I  address  you  this  let 
ter,  hearing  you  kad  purchased  the  right  to  manufacture  it  from  Dr. 
Fontaine  ;  and  having  seen  Mr.  Fetridge  several  times  on  his  visits  to 
London,  I  thought  it  might  be  a  service  to  you  to  record  this  testimony. 

My  kind  regards  to  your  Mr.  Fetridge,  and  believe  me, 
Your  ob't  serv't, 

H.  T.  JOHNSON, 

St.  Martin's  Lane 


The  following  Is  from  Gaylord  Clark,  of  the  Knickerbocker 
Magazine. 

It  is  not  our  wont  to  allude  to  kindred  fabrications,  but  we  can  say, 
from  the  ocular  proof,  that  the  Balm  of  Thousand  Flowers,  a  prepara 
tion  for  removing  tan,  pimples,  and  freckles  from  the  face,  shaving, 
eleansing  the  teeth,  curling  the  hair,  removing  grease  spots  from 
dothes,  carpets,  etc.,  sold  by  our  agents,  Fetridge  &  Co.,  Boston,  ia 
the  best  article  of  its  kind  we  have  ever  encountered.  It  is,  in  real 
ity,  all  that  it  purports  to  be. 


FETRIDGE    &    CO., 

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